


Red Velvet, White Meringue, and Royal Icing

by HMS_Chill



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: (literally because they're baking), Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just... everyone is here, the great british bake off AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMS_Chill/pseuds/HMS_Chill
Summary: Henry is a dramaturg who lives and works in London with his sister Bea and dog David. His bakes have all been approved by the casts and creative teams at the theater where he works, and inspired by his family baking tradition.Originally from the American state of Texas, Alex now lives in Kent, where he balances studying law with his love for baking.Alex came to Bake Off to find out how good he is. Henry came to find new ideas and inspiration, and maybe to prove to himself that he can carry on his dad's baking traditions. But with ten weeks in a tent, they both find a little more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Liam/Spencer (Red White & Royal Blue)
Comments: 309
Kudos: 213
Collections: Red White & Royal Blue Big Bang 2020





	1. Cake Week

**Author's Note:**

> With art by @/emry-stars on Tumblr, and a massive thanks to Syd, @/wyverning on Twitter, for hopping in as a very last minute beta and dealing with my disaster of a first draft!

“And you’ve got your recipes, right?”

Henry rolls his eyes with a smile, patting his bag. “Yes, Bea. They’re right here, safe and sound. If I lose them, I’m sure they’ll have the copies I sent them in the tent.”

“The little laundry sheets so you can do wash in case you get something on your top?”

“I’ve got them, too. I’m going to be fine; there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll call you when I get there, and before we start tomorrow, and I’ll keep you posted.”

She hugs him again, adding, “Dad would be so proud of you.”

He grins when they pull away, and she reaches up to ruffle his hair while he swats at her hands and escapes toward the train, waving with a confidence he’s not sure he feels. Bea had been there when he auditioned for the show, to proofread his application and help him learn the basics of food photography for the Instagram account she’d set up for him. She’d been there when they called him for the phone interview, and she’d cleaned up while he made things for the first in person interview. She’d helped him scour cookbooks and drill baking basics before his technical application, and she’s spent the past week testing his practice bakes and cleaning up after him, typically with nightly pep talks about how good he is and how she’s proud of him. But now, it’s just him and his overnight bag getting on the train for Berkshire. He’s committed to his bakes, and he’s sure of what he’s doing. Now, all that’s left is to do it.

The train ride is somehow both too long and too short all at once. He tries to get some work done, but the nerves make it hard. He wants to shout at everyone on the train that he’s made it, that he’s going to be on the show and in the tent, baking with the best home bakers in the country. He wants to ask each and every passenger if maybe they’re going to the same place, maybe they’ve done it, too, and the two of them are going to get to bake together. He wants to ask if a Victoria sponge is too simple, if he’s committed to something stupid enough to get him sent home the first week just because he’s a sentimental sap.

A crew member from the show meets him at the train station, and there’s someone else next to him, a Black man wearing the most colorful shirt Henry has ever seen. He’s got a big smile as he reaches out to shake Henry’s hand.

“I’m Percy. Call me Pez, like the sweets.”

“Henry. Nice to meet you.”

“Good to meet you. I think we’re waiting for one more, then we’ll go to the hotel and see the tent and things. You excited?”

Henry nods as another boy comes over in a rush, his curls flopping into his face and bag inches away from falling off his shoulder. He sticks his hand out, and the bag slips down his arm, settling around his elbow as he shakes their hands.

“Hi. Hi, sorry I’m late, I’m Alex.”

Henry and Pez introduce themselves, and the crew member whose name Henry doesn’t quite remember (it might be Sarah?) gets them into a car and driving toward the hotel where they’ll be staying for the weekend. Ideally, they’ll be back next weekend, too , but thinking about leaving already feels like a lot for week one. Alex introduces himself as a law student from Canterbury, and Pez works at a nonprofit in Manchester. Henry just tells them he does research for a theater; it’s not quite worth getting into everything when they’re all just getting to know each other. He’s more than happy to let the others talk; he hears about Alex’s classes and Pez’s charity work. He hears about how Alex moved from America to Scotland with his mom when she married his stepdad, but he still goes back to America in the summer and for some holidays.

He half-listens, half-worries about the upcoming weekend. He checks to make sure he’s still got his recipes at least three times. They still haven’t escaped, thankfully, and by the third time he looks in his bag, Alex, who’s sitting next to him, notices. “Hey, they’re there; it’s fine. We’re all nervous, but it’ll be okay.”

Henry just smiles at him. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice before, but Alex is… well. Alex’s face is very, very nice. He’s got a bit of a smile, and Pez is saying something, but Henry’s not sure what it is and he knows he doesn’t care.

“I just don’t want to go home first,” he admits, and Alex grins.

“Listen. If I think you’re going out, I’ll drop a cake on the floor and we’ll go together, okay?” Henry laughs a bit, and Alex pats his shoulder, then turns back to say something to Pez. His hand is still on Henry’s shoulder, and it stays there until they reach the hotel where they’ll meet the others, and Henry tries his hardest to think about or focus on other things, but it’s certainly distracting.

Alex doesn’t move his hand until they’re pulling up at the hotel, and when it’s gone it leaves a cold spot in its place. Henry doesn’t have long to think about that, though, as he’s climbing out of the car and joining a crowd already around a minibus with the Bake Off logo on the side. Probably-Sarah takes their bags to their rooms, explaining that they’ll be going to the tent tonight to get a look at it and learn how things like the ovens and the mixers work.

They have the obligatory round of slightly awkward introductions, and Henry finds himself next to a man named Shaan whose aura of calm somehow seems to quiet even Henry’s jangling nerves. They’re talking about Shaan’s role as a curator with the National Museum of Scotland and their exhibit on prosthetics when the bus turns a corner and they see the white peaks of the tent emerging from behind the Welford Park House. Henry stops in the middle of a question about the Alternative Limb Project’s Vine Arm to gape, and Shaan leans over to look out the window as well. The whole atmosphere of the bus has changed, and there are a few moments of silence before it erupts into excited chattering, everyone seeming to remember all at once why they’re here. Henry still just looks, grinning, out the window. That’s the tent. This is it. He snaps a picture to send Bea.

Then they’re getting out, and they’re walking the tent. They’re being shown which benches they’ll bake at tomorrow, and they’re meeting the hosts and judges and crew, and Henry’s brain can’t seem to focus on any of it. It doesn’t quite seem real, but between Shaan’s grounding presence and Pez’s chatter, it’s hard to believe he’s dreaming. Alex being here is another point in the not-a-dream category; he’s not sure he could have imagined a smile that bright.

It’s a whirlwind trip, and they’re loading back onto the minibus before too long, Henry’s head spinning. He’ll be back here tomorrow, baking cakes he used to bake with his dad, and he’ll be doing it for TV cameras and in front of the entire world. He’ll be telling the world about growing up baking cakes, and those very cakes he used to make with his dad could be the ones that send him home.

That night, the production team takes them out to dinner, and Henry meets Nora, the data analyst Alex has become fast friends with via a heated debate about how easy a pothos plant is to keep alive. He mentions that Bea’s kept one for a few years without much struggle, which drags him into the debate and gets them all laughing. They’re not talking about their bakes, and Henry’s glad. He’s got enough to worry about without hearing the amazing things the others have planned.

The next morning, they have an early call. Henry’s in the lobby of the hotel even before they need to be, though, texting Bea an extra thank you and checking, once again, that he has everything he needs. The last thing he wants is to get to the tent and realize he’s left something here. He’s halfway through another text to Bea when there’s a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to see Shaan.

“Hello. Couldn’t sleep either?” Henry asks with a smile. Shaan shrugs.

“I just think it never hurts to be a bit early to things.” He’s got a thermos of coffee, but beyond that, he looks just as polished as he would any other time of day. There’s no indication that he’s up at 5 AM.

“What do you think will happen today? I mean, I know they walked us all through it, but that’s not the same as actually doing it, and no one… no one really talked about things last night.”

“I think we’ll go in there and bake. What do you have planned?”

“Some… some Victoria sponges today. Mini ones. I… I’m sort of scared it’s too simple, but we used to make them with my dad growing up, and so I have a lot of practice. My sister suggested I pick something pretty simple that I’m familiar with for the first bake so I get used to it.”

“I think that’s a good plan, and I’m sure if you’ve been making these since you were young, you’ve got it down.”

“What are you making?”

“It’s a green tea cake; we had them at a gallery opening a few years back.”

“It sounds good; I’ll have to try some when you’re done.”

Shaan smiles at him, and Henry relaxes a bit. He looks around to see some of the other contestants have joined them in the lobby. He spends some time talking to Hunter, who’s very excited about the new high-protein flour he’s using for his cakes, and decides that he would maybe rather pull his ears off than hear more about high-protein flour or different milling varieties and their nutritional benefits. He’s in the bus when Alex arrives in the seat next to him, looking tired and carrying the biggest thermos Henry’s ever seen.

“Hello again. Ready for the big day?” Alex asks around a yawn.

“I’m not sure. I guess? We sort of have to be,” Henry says, and Alex nods.

“I can’t argue with you there. Still. You feel ready?”

“As ready as I can. What about you?”

“I guess. I think my sister’s more worried than I am, if I’m honest.”

“You have a sister?”

“An older one; June. She’s thinking of moving back to the states, but for now she’s working for a few magazines here.”

“Is it weird, sort of being here and sort of being back in the States?”

“I guess. It’s just sort of how it’s been since we moved, you know?”

“Think you’ll ever go back?”

“I’m not sure. It was sort of weird deciding to move, but June was coming since she was interested and school here’s a lot more affordable, so I came, too. It was… you know, this exciting new start and everything, and we’re pretty happy staying here and going back for summers sometimes.”

Henry just nods as they turn into Welford Park, looking down at the bag where he’s got his recipes again. Alex smiles.

“They all there?”

He’s teasing, and Henry just rolls his eyes. He’s expecting to be nervous as they all climb out of the van, but somehow, he’s not. Alex’s hand on his shoulder likely has nothing to do with that.

They file in to stand behind their assigned benches.

Henry puts his recipes and a picture of him and his dad baking down in front of him, taking a deep breath.

On your mark.

Get set.

Bake.

And then he’s reaching for the eggs and flour and sugar, and he’s baking a miniature Victoria sponge, just like he’s done a thousand times before. And yes, he’s in a tent rather than a kitchen, and yes, there’s the hustle and bustle of camera crews and other bakers around him, but it’s just baking. It’s just the same Victoria sponge he used to make for his mum every year on her birthday, when they’d each decorate one for her and she’d look at them all and puzzle over it before she declared them all the best decorators.

The first Royal Tour arrives before any of them are really ready for it. Henry sees Amy frantically cleaning a few things off her station as the judges come to stand in front of him. He’s seen this bit a million times, but it feels surreal to actually be the one in the spotlight.

“I’m Henry; I’m making some Victoria sponges. When we were kids, we used to make them with my dad, and all three of us kids would decorate them for our Mum.”

“Did you have to fight it out to have the best cake?” Noel asks, and Henry laughs.

“She’d always say we were all her favorite.”

“Bit simple, isn’t it?” Paul asks, and Henry’s heart is in his throat.

“I was hoping to do something where my nerves wouldn’t get in the way as much, at least for the first bake,” he explains, and Sandi smiles.

“Well, I think that if you do it well, something like this will really show us what you can do,” Prue says, and as they move on, Henry thanks every saint he’s ever disappointed that at least she’s on his side.

He has a second after he puts the cakes in when he can look around to see how everyone else is doing, and he sees an explosion of color on Pez’s station. Across the aisle from him, he sees a personal assistant named Zahra with a station he swears is neater than his was when they started. Nora is in front of him, checking things off a complex spreadsheet while surrounded by chaos, and somewhere, he thinks Alex might be swearing in Spanish.

After a second to breathe, Henry starts on his jam and buttercream, keeping an eye on his mini cakes. He’s making more than they used to with his dad, but even so, it feels just as familiar and comfortable.

The fillings come together, and then he gives himself a half second to check them before he’s on to assembling, setting a single raspberry in the middle of each cake and carefully piping designs on the tops. Noel announces that they have one minute left, and Henry gets everything on the end of his bench and leans back as they finish counting down.

Just like that, the first bake is over, and the bakers file out to rest. This is the part where the TV element of the show takes over; their bakes are going to get their beauty shots and the bakers are going to be interviewed. Hunter gets pulled first, so Henry gets to flop down onto the couch. Pez settles beside him, automatically resting a hand on Henry’s knee, and it turns out that he’s used a colorful mirror glaze and real flowers, either of which could have been the colors Henry saw. He asks about Nora’s spreadsheet, and she shows it to him, covered in frosting and batter and marking out what she should be doing every ten minutes.

When everything’s ready for them, the bakers traipse back into the tent, all quiet and nervous as they face their first round of judging. As much as Henry is trying to pay attention to everyone else’s comments, he’s too nervous to focus on much aside from the occasional word until the judges are in front of him.

He’s smiling, doing his best to relax as they take a bite. Paul reiterates that his cakes are simple, but says they’re perfectly done, and Prue agrees with him. Henry grins, finally feeling like he can breathe as he sits down. Behind him, Cash gets compliments on his flavors and the unique designs. Alex is next, and Henry hears them compliment his cake, but complain that it’s a bit claggy, which he’d been worried about. As they file out for lunch, Henry manages to get beside Alex and ask how it went, but Alex just shrugs.

“I made a damn good tres leches; if they thought it was a weird texture I’m not too upset about it. I mean, obviously I’m not thrilled, but you know. It was the type of cake they didn’t like, not my version of it. So it’s not, you know, that I’m bad at baking or anything, at least not really. This table look good?” Henry nods and sits, which is how he finds himself at a table with Nora, Pez, Alex, and Hunter, who turns out to be both very talkative and intensely boring.

Alex is across from Henry, and whenever they make eye contact, Alex makes a face, quietly mocking Hunter. Henry smiles, and he nods when Hunter says things, but it’s nice to know he’s not the only one bored with Hunter’s rambling. Alex is on his side, both in and out of the tent, and that’s nice to know, too, especially going into the technical.

Henry’s been trying to avoid thinking about it, but the technical’s been in the back of his mind. He’s done what he can to prepare for it, but he has no idea what to expect. Still, Alex will be baking near him, and Zahra will be across from him, and she seems like the sort of person who will know what’s happening if he gets really lost and needs to see what she’s up to. It’ll be alright.

They file back to the tent as lunch ends, and Henry takes a deep breath as he settles behind his bench, tying the apron. It’s just this technical, then they’ll be getting dinner together and spending time in the hotel, probably talking about the loved ones they’re making their showstopper cakes for. Henry is more than ready to talk about Bea and how much he loves her, and he wonders briefly who Alex is making a cake for. He’s been so focused on worrying about the technical that he hasn’t gotten a chance to know the other bakers as well as he hopes, but maybe that chance will come over a dinner with the bakers he’s starting to become friends with.

He tries to think about that instead of the gingham-clad mystery pile in front of him. There are ingredients for something under that fabric, but he can’t know what, and it’s not going to help to try and guess. He just takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the judges’ advice instead.

As it turns out, Prue’s advice is just to read closely, which is about as helpful as telling them to remember to breathe or that cakes need sugar. That’s all they get before the judges step out, and Noel has a joke about their figure skating class before Sandi announces the dish they’ve been tasked with.

They’re making something called nut cake. Henry thinks he may have heard of it once, and the cake itself seems fairly simple. The icing for it looks a bit more complicated, but that’s an issue for Future Henry. The cake is a problem for right now, and it’s not nearly as much of a problem as he thought it might be. And right now, Henry’s just baking, falling into the routine of reading a new recipe and figuring things out. He and Bea have been practicing technicals for weeks now, and he’s been reading old recipes for years so he can bake things appropriate for different plays he’s working on. As it turns out, deciphering them has helped him get ready for figuring out pared down modern ones.

Behind him, he hears Jeffrey, a man he’s not particularly close to, panicking.

Zahra seems in control, and while there are varying degrees of panic happening around him, everyone else seems relatively calm.

Nora’s workstation is a mess, as is Pez’s, but they and some of the other messy bakers seem like they’ll thrive in that mess. By contrast, Jeffrey’s mess just looks like mess.

But as much as he cares for the other bakers, Henry does his best to ignore them, at least for now. He tries to just concentrate on his own cake, even if it demands less concentration than he might have guessed. Even as they shift to icing, it’s far from the hardest thing he’s ever baked. The judges might be easing them into the technicals, but Henry’s glad for it. As the final seconds tick down, he’s drizzling the icing on his cake, and as he steps back he declares it ‘good enough’.

Carrying it up to the table and setting it behind his picture feels surreal, especially surrounded by the other bakers doing the same. He’s seen it on TV a million times, but somehow, doing it himself still sends a slight shiver down his spine. His cake doesn’t look bad compared to the others, and as he’s filing out to take a break with the rest of the bakers, he gets a glimpse at Jeffrey’s. It doesn’t look iced. In their resting area, Henry learns that he’s afraid it’s underbaked; apparently he’d forgotten to add nuts to his first one and had to restart with barely any time left.

As much as Henry hates to see anyone upset, a tiny, tiny part of him is relieved. He doesn’t want to come last in the technical, especially not the first one. They’re called back into the tent once it’s clean, and as they file onto the stools, Henry is sandwiched between Shaan and Alex. Alex grabs his hand; his cake is on the end where they’ll start the tasting and he’s pretty clearly worried. Henry just gives his hand a squeeze as the judges try his cake, and when they move on, Alex doesn’t stop squeezing, so Henry keeps a tight hold through the whole thing.

It is, by far, the worst part of the day. The deliberation about cakes is too quiet to hear, and it seems to take forever, but then they’ve decided. Alex is squeezing Henry’s hand so hard he thinks his fingers might go numb as the judges step forward to announce the results of the first technical challenge this group of bakers have ever faced.

Jeffrey comes in last. Alex is fourth, and to his shock, Henry comes in first. He’s not sure what to think, but he knows he has to call Bea as soon as he can. He has to thank her for how much she’s done to test him and get him ready for this part of the competition. Alex pulls him into a hug almost immediately, and Henry grins as Cash, a stay at home dad who seems great, joins in. They get pulled aside for more interviews, and Henry gets to be really, really excited without having to worry about hurting or offending anyone else, but even on the bus back, even as he tries to keep it toned down a bit so as not to upset anyone, he can’t quite help his grin.

He calls Bea that night from the hotel room, because really, he can’t think of anything else to do with these emotions. She picks up on the first ring.

“Henry! You did so well! I knew you would.” Just hearing her voice is enough to pull some of the tension out of his shoulders, and he laughs a bit.

“I never… god, it was a lot, but I… I did it.”

“You did it! And you got first in technical; I’m so proud of you. Dad would be, too, I know it.”

He just smiles, talking to her until there’s a knock on his door, and Pez is there to invite him out for dinner with some of the other contestants. Bea tells him to go have fun, and he finishes getting changed, then finds Pez, Alex, Nora, and a reporter named Oliver at the hotel bar. Alex is talking about a family friend he’s planning to make a cake for tomorrow, about how they’ve been friends since his dad took Raf in when his coming out didn’t go well. They’d had a tradition of birthday cookies, but Raf was used to cakes, so he’s the only one they make cake for. He’s planning a big cake decorated with cookies, just like they’d always done.

Henry gets to talk about how much he loves Bea, then a student named Liam joins them and hesitantly talks about how his boyfriend’s parents’ anniversary was last week, so he’s replicating the cake he made them. Pez demands a picture of Liam and his boyfriend, and they all get to admire how cute they are while Liam blushes. Pez moans that he and his partner will never be that cute, and he uses the word ‘partner’, which makes Liam relax a bit and makes Henry grin as a wave of quiet warmth washes over him. Even though he’d known that people would probably be fine if he came out, it’s nice to know he wouldn’t be alone if he did. Seeing Liam and Spencer’s pictures, and hearing that Pez probably isn’t straight (though honestly, he’d piqued Henry’s gaydar early on), helps quiet the part of him that’s worried.

Apparently Liam was the only one they were waiting for, so Pez leads the way to a nearby restaurant. Shaan and Zahra are there already, and they wave them over. The eight of them end up monopolizing a corner booth, filling the table with good food and the benches with good conversations. Zahra’s planning a baby shower cake for her sister, and Shaan’s planning one as a test for his parents’ renewal of vows. They finish dinner and go to bed relatively early, knowing they’ve got an early call tomorrow, but Henry goes to bed feeling better about the showstopper than he ever could have imagined.

It’s him and Shaan downstairs early the next day, and they make small talk and text their families while they wait for the others to come down. It’s a nice way to wake up, and Henry’s already starting to get used to this routine, to morning conversations about Shaan’s museum over tea and coffee. Shaan offers to give him a tour of the archives if he comes to visit, and Henry promises to take him up on that next time he’s in Edinburgh. Even that feels nice, to plan to see each other again after this is all over, and to know that even if he goes home this week, he’ll have made at least one friend.

The other bakers trickle down as Henry and Shaan are finishing their tea, and it’s not long before they’re all there, loading into the minibus and heading off to the tent to make cakes for their loved ones. Henry’s planning one shaped like a guitar for Bea, using a sponge recipe similar to the one they’d made with their dad but flavored especially for her. It’s the one bake he hasn’t practiced with her around, the only one she’s never tried in full. He wants her to be surprised when she watches the show.

He tells Paul and Prue about having lied about his plans to her when they come on the royal tour, and it makes Paul laugh, which is a relief from his regular stoicness. Prue tells him it’s sweet, Noel asks if there’s anything else he’d like to confess to lying to her about, and Henry honestly admits to having never lied to Bea in any other circumstance, and then they’re moving on. Behind him, Henry hears Cash talk about making a cake with layers for each of his kids, and he can’t help but grin. He’ll have to take a peek at that cake when decorating time comes.

His own cake is going well. He’s been playing it safe this week, and he knows that, but at least that means that he doesn’t have to worry about anything too hard. He’s made each of these cakes for Bea before, and he made a guitar cake for her last birthday. The hardest part is the assembly. He’s decided to have the guitar stand upright, probably because he’s an idiot, so the last two hours of the bake is entirely dedicated to carefully, carefully stacking cakes on top of each other and carving them into the right shape. He’s planning a mirror glaze, both because it will mimic the shine of Bea’s guitar and because he’s an idiot who likes to use every second of their allotted time and stress himself out as he does. He’s sure he’ll have time, but he’s making a brown fondant just in case.

He’s just getting his fondant-covered cake in the freezer when he hears Alex swear behind him, and he doesn’t even think before he turns to see what’s wrong. Alex has a decorative cake tin, and he’s frantically tapping it on a baking sheet. Henry goes over to his bench, and he can feel a camera following him as he asks, “How can I help?”

“Just… it won’t come out.”

“Did you run a knife around the middle? Try that.”

There’s a tense silence as Alex does. Henry’s holding his breath.

Alex flips the cake over again, shaking it up and down a few times on the baking sheet. Henry can just hear the thunk as it falls, and Alex lets out a shaky breath as he pulls the tin off. The cake emerges, looking complete, and Alex grins. Henry grins back, and Alex thanks him as he picks up a piping bag. Henry turns back to his own bench as Alex says, “Hey, if you need me to drop this on the floor, I still will.”

Henry just laughs as he goes back to his own bench. As he goes around Cash’s, Cash says, “Hey, either of you are welcome to drop anything on the floor as long as it’s not mine. Amy looks pretty confident over there.”

Alex tosses the top of a strawberry onto the ground behind Cash’s bench, and Cash laughs, and Henry starts on his mirror glaze infinitely less worried than he would have been otherwise.

He’s pulled shortbread decorations out of the oven and drizzled his mirror glaze over the cake when Noel calls the two minute warning, and his piping of the strings is a bit sloppy, but when he steps back he can barely believe he’s done it. It’s a bit messy, but it looks like a guitar, and he knows Bea would be thrilled with it. Really, that’s all that matters. He’s feeling good about it, but when he turns and sees Cash’s cake, he knows he’s lost any shot at star baker. It’s a towering beauty, each layer individually decorated with castles, jungles, and pirate ships.

Cash brushes aside their compliments, but when Henry asks about the kids, he starts talking about each of them, rambling and rambling as they leave the tent for their break. Henry just grins and listens as Cash’s excitement completely overwhelms any worry Henry might be feeling. Instead of thinking about if his cakes are too dry or if something is wrong with his fondant, Henry gets to look at pictures of Cash’s kids and husband and dog. It makes for a fantastic distraction while they wait for the tent to be cleaned up, and Henry wonders briefly just how many more people he can ask about pets or kids while they wait.

Cash rambles about his family through most of their break, and Henry is happy to just sit back and listen. Cash is clearly a good dad, and he’s more than happy to ramble about his son’s ballet recital or his daughter’s favorite cookie recipe throughout the entire cleaning period and photoshoot.

He’s still talking about his kids as they photographers finish up, so Henry gets to focus on that instead of worrying as they settle behind the benches for the final time that day. Henry is too far back to hear what the judges are saying to anyone else, but he watches Hunter’s and Jeffrey’s shoulders slump, watches Prue smile at Cash and Oliver, and he grins when Pez brings a rainbow explosion past his bench. Pez just winks as Henry laughs a bit.

Then it’s his turn, and he’s carefully carrying the cake up. It looks good; recognizably an electric guitar leaning against an amp. The judges like the flavors and the look, but it is dry. He’d been afraid of that; he’d been making fondant while it baked, and left it in a bit too long. Still, over all, it’s positive. Alex gives him a thumbs up as he carries the cake back, and Cash smiles at him. It’s not a bad cake, and he’s done well in the technical. He’s probably going to be back next week, and that’s good enough for now.

He does his best to focus on the others’ comments, but this far back it isn’t easy. It feels a bit like playing telephone as the bakers closer to the front say things like we’ve all had dry cakes or I heard good things. Reactions seem to be pretty varied across the board, and it doesn’t seem like Henry’s the only one who’s not done his best, but this far back he has no real idea.

The judges and hosts leave to make a decision, and the bakers are left to mill around the tent before eventually settling on the stools at the front. Alex is beside Henry again, and he grabs Henry’s hand as the judges and hosts come out. He’s had a good bake, and done decently in the technical, but nothing’s guaranteed in the tent.

Cash gets star baker, surprising no one but himself. His showstopper pushed him over the top, just like Henry knew it would, and he’s thrilled to get to reach over and squeeze Cash’s shoulder to congratulate him. His husband and kids are going to be so proud.

Then comes the hard part. Alex is squeezing Henry’s hand so hard it’s turning white.

Sandi opens her mouth.

“Jeffrey.”

Alex drops Henry’s hand and gives him a little half-embarrassed smile, and Henry has just enough time for half a thought about how he hopes he and Alex stay on the show. He refuses to let himself think on that, just gives Cash a big hug and gets through their final interviews. He tells the interviewer that he’s not surprised Cash got it, because he really deserves it, and that he’ll be glad to come back next week. Cash joins them again while he’s on the phone with his husband and kids, and he’s beaming as he talks and they load into the minibus.

It’s a strange atmosphere on the bus. Jeffrey’s upset to be going home, but Henry can’t seem to find it in himself to be all that sad. He’s staying, and so are Alex and Shaan and Pez. He gets to come back and bake with his friends next week, and as much as going home sucks for Jeffrey, Henry can’t find any particular grief about it.

They only have a few minutes to get their bags together before they’re heading back to the train station. Henry says goodbye to Alex, Pez, and the others, then calls Bea as he slips his ticket into the slot. The train is already on the platform, and he finds an empty table and slides into it, still talking as he pulls his laptop out to get some work done. He’s just hanging up with her when someone slides into the seat across from him.

“Anyone sitting here?” Alex asks with a smile. Henry smiles back, shaking his head.

“Hello.”

“Hey. Good job in there today; that guitar looked great.”

“Looked great, tasted dry. Yours looked good, too; I’m sure your family friend would have loved it.”

“Thanks. I needed it to be good after that tres leches disaster yesterday.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t have to drop anything on the floor,” Henry says, and Alex grins.

“Me too.” Alex pulls out a laptop, but even as he opens it, he seems no less willing to end the conversation. “And, if I’m honest, I know this is meant to be the most wholesome experience and all, but I’m sort of glad Jeffrey’s gone.” He’s leaning across the table conspiratorially, and Henry finds himself leaning forward, too. “He rubbed me weird.”

“He… he sort of rubbed me weird, too. If it had to be someone, I’m glad it was him.”

They share another conspiratorial smile, and Alex says, “Exactly. Like maybe he’s fine, but I’d rather him than someone else. I’d rather him than you or Nora or Pez any day.”

“He was just so…” Henry’s not quite sure what he wants to say, but Alex is nodding.

“Yeah. If it had to be someone, I’m glad it was him.”

He’s finally turning his attention to his laptop, making an excuse about a paper he’s got to work on, so Henry turns back to his own work with a small smile, his leg occasionally brushing Alex’s. They both get drinks when the cart comes, tea for Henry and coffee for Alex, and Alex pays for both, promising that Henry can get it next time.

Next time, because there will be a next time.

When he meets Bea at the station that night, he’s not quite sure how to tell her about Alex, but she seems to know what to think, even if Henry doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this fic back in February, I had no idea how much the world might need it come October. But here we are, and here it is! Ten chapters of gay baking! That I hope y'all love!  
> -  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	2. Biscuit Week

Alex has a study session that keeps him late on Friday, and he wants to complain that his friends should have something better to do, but it’s a bit hard given that his plans are to study on his way to a baking competition. He brings a last trial of the chocolate chip shortbread he’s making, and they’re gone quickly, which is nice. 

He eats dinner and tries to study on the train, but knowing what’s coming isn’t particularly conducive to good studying. He looks up when they go through London, and it takes a second for him to realize he’s looking for Henry. He doesn’t think about what that means, just notes that if Henry is on this train, he’s not in Alex’s car. 

His late arrival makes him the last one to the station again, but this time he meets Nora and Hunter. Nora already looks bored, and Alex shoots her a sympathetic look as Hunter talks over his hellos. 

Still, Hunter sits in the front of the car, so Alex gets to hear about the hamantashen Nora’s making tomorrow, filled with all sorts of different things. He hears stories of the Purim celebrations Nora grew up with, then tells her about discovering a shortbread shop near them when he and June had first moved to Edinburgh with their mom and Leo. He’d liked her already, but the more time he spends with her, the feeling only grows. By the time they part for the night, his nerves are gone, dissolved by bad jokes and happy memories.

The next morning, Alex is half-awake, leaving his room for coffee when he nearly runs into Zahra in the hotel hallway. He’s a little afraid of someone who can go on a run and still look this good this early in the morning. 

She smiles at him and returns his semi-coherent greeting with a cheery good morning, and Alex rolls his eyes with a smile as he follows her down to the lobby. Henry and Shaan are at a table, laughing at something, and Alex brings his coffee over to them without a second thought. Henry sees him coming and pushes out a chair for him, and it’s much too early to try and process the feeling that ignites in him, but it’s a good one. 

They’re getting on the bus as soon as Alex’s coffee is gone, and he’s sliding into a seat with Henry automatically, yawning. 

“Late night?” Henry asks with a smile. Alex nods. 

“Paper due on Monday. I was working with some friends and got a late train.” 

“Ah, student days. What are you doing?”

“Law, at the University of Kent. I’ll be interviewing at a few places in London soon, if you know any good law firms there.”

“Not immediately, but I can ask around. If you need a guide around London or a place to stay, let me know; I’m sure we can find something.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind; that would be great.” They’re quiet for a bit, then Alex says, “You feeling ready for today?”

“I think so. You?” 

“Ready as I can be. What are you making?”

“Ginger biscuits. My dad used to make them for us kids when we were sick. When I broke my leg, he snuck them in past all the hospital staff.”

“How’d you break your leg? No offense, but you don’t seem like the rough and tumble, leg-breaking type.”

“Fell out of a treehouse. My sister Bea begged our parents to put it up, and the first time I was up in it I fell off the ladder coming down and broke my leg. They almost took it down, but Bea cried harder than me and made them leave it up.” 

“Of course you were a treehouse kid,” Alex says. “I’m out here hurting myself falling off shit or crashing my bike; you fell out of a treehouse.”

“What were you falling off?” 

“Oh all sorts of things. Broke my foot falling off a wall, broke a leg falling out of a tree. My mom says she never had another kid after me because I was such a wild child and she couldn’t afford any more hospital bills.” 

Henry laughs as the tent comes into view, and Alex grins. They talk about Alex’s shortbread on the walk from the van to the tent, then they’re back, standing behind benches and pulling on aprons. 

Alex grins at his friends as the hosts drone on about traditional biscuits, and when they say bake, he’s ready to go. When the judges come around, he talks about Mexican chocolate, how it has a nice heat to it, and how chocolate chip shortbread blends the American cookies he was raised on with the biscuits he’s gotten used to in Scotland. 

Shortbread is simple enough, and they’re sure to tell him that, but that’s when Alex tells them about his secret weapon: tempered alcoholic chocolate. He’s planning to add Shiner to half the chocolate and Scotch to the other, then cut them out in the shapes of Texas and Scotland. Paul wishes him luck on the chocolate, glancing outside the tent at the weather as if Alex doesn’t know it’ll be hard. He can’t always temper chocolate in his kitchen; with the temperature and humidity in flux in the tent it’s going to be an adventure to say the least.

In the end, he only burns two pots of chocolate before he gets it tempered well enough. The snap as he presses a cookie cutter into it is immensely gratifying, and he’s placing the last cutout on top of a cookie and taking a second to admire the shine as Noel calls time.

He gets a glimpse at some other bakes as they file out, and he has to roll his eyes. Shaan’s got curls of tempered chocolate on his, and Nora’s are perfect little filled triangles. Cash’s look even more kid-friendly than Alex had expected, somehow, which is saying a lot. 

Spirits seem high while they wait for the tent to be cleaned and their cookies to get beauty shots. Amy, a security guard, has apparently made her wife’s favorite biscuits, which Alex thinks is perfect. They’d had them at their wedding in place of a cake, so Alex insists on seeing wedding pictures, and the towering trays of biscuits look so much better than any cake he can imagine. Still, as he’s looking at pictures and enjoying them, he can’t help noticing that Henry’s quiet. When Amy gets pulled for an interview, Alex leans over to ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just sort of hard sometimes. Making things my dad did, I mean; I don’t think they’ll ever be as good as his. That and, well, he got them from his gran, and his mum couldn’t really cook all that well, so I just worry that it skipped me sometimes? That somehow cooking is hereditary, and I didn’t get whatever he had.”

“Hey. You’re here, right? You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t great at this. And I don’t know your dad, so I don’t know if you’ve got whatever he has, but you’ve got what you have. And that’s enough, right?”

“I hope so,” Henry says. He still looks worried, so Alex throws an arm over his shoulders casually and pulls him in for a hug. Henry goes stiff for a moment, then relaxes, and Alex grins. 

“Dude. I don’t know for sure what your family thinks, and I haven’t tried your dad’s food, but I had the food you made last week, so I know you’re great at this stuff. If you’re this good, you can’t have missed anything.” Henry’s smile is a bit more real this time, and Alex grins as Henry’s head flops onto his shoulder. “You okay?”

Henry nods, and they stay that way, Henry’s head on Alex’s shoulder and Alex steadfastly ignoring whatever emotions he might be having about it, until they’re called back into the tent for judging. Alex is on edge when the judges come around, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Paul thinks there’s too much alcohol in his chocolate, and he wishes the chocolate was tempered better, but the biscuit is good. Prue agrees about tempering the chocolate, but generally likes it all. It’s not a bad judging, especially compared to last weekend’s signature.

Once they’re past him, Alex hops up on his stool to listen to the other bakers’ critiques. Cash is behind him with family-themed biscuits, and Alex catches bits about how he’s done different textures well and how they look nice, if a bit clumsy. Nora gets comments about how her flavors are wonderful and unexpected, and Hunter gets something about texture that Alex can’t quite make out. When he looks back, though, Hunter looks upset. From there, the judges are out of earshot, and Alex relaxes a bit on his stool. He’s tired already, which doesn’t bode particularly well for the upcoming technical, and he’s thinking about if he can get coffee at lunch as the judges move closer again. 

He perks up a bit once they get to Henry; he knows how important this bake was for him. It’s a bit of a surprise to realize that he’s almost more worried for Henry’s judging than his own, but really, Henry has more riding on this. For Alex, it was just a bit of shortbread, something he’s made a million times. For Henry, this bake was a sort of test, a question of his skill and ability that went much deeper than Alex’s own.

He can’t hear everything from his seat, but he’s close enough to hear at least some of what the judges have to say. He watches like a hawk as Paul takes a bite of Henry’s cookie, and Prue is praising him, but Paul is quiet.   
His silence seems to stretch forever. Prue is talking about how he’s got the flavor just right. Sandi says something about how beautiful they look. Paul is silent.

Henry’s eyes flick over to him every now and then, and Alex knows he’s just as anxious. The silence stretches further.

Paul sighs and holds out his hand. Alex beams, feeling almost giddy as the relief washes through him. The first Hollywood Handshake of the season, and it’s on this bake. Henry beams as he grabs it, and Alex overhears perfect and best ginger biscuit in Paul’s accent. As they turn, Henry sits down with a smile, nodding at Alex’s thumbs up. 

There are tears in his eyes. 

There shouldn’t be tears in Henry’s eyes. Not now. Not ever.

The minute they’re able to leave their stations, Alex is making a beeline to Henry, a series of swear words and brand names on the tip of his tongue in case he needs to make any crying footage unairable. But the cameras are cut, and Henry’s not really crying anymore, so Alex just asks, “Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah; just... meant a lot to get a handshake on something I made with my dad. I was so scared I was going to let him down, but he’d be proud of these.” 

Alex smiles, putting an arm around Henry’s shoulders and grabbing a biscuit before the crew can box them up. It’s incredible. 

“Dude, these are amazing. You said you made them with your dad? We should save him one; sneak it out so you can bring it home.” 

“Oh, um, my... my dad passed away, actually. A few years ago now.” 

Alex swears, glancing sheepishly toward the nearest camera before he says, “I’m sorry. But he’d be really proud of you, and of these. They’re really good.” 

“Thank you. I’m sure yours are, too.” 

“They’re no Hollywood Handshake, that’s for sure, but my family and I like them well enough. Might be a little hot for your delicate English taste buds; I used Mexican chocolate.”

“Wouldn’t be one of your bakes if it didn’t have a bit of a kick, now would it?” Henry asks, and Alex grins. 

“I’m going to get y’all to use those spices you invaded half the world for, just wait.” Henry laughs, and Alex grins, and they try their friends’ biscuits before heading to lunch. And it’s nice. And, if there’s a warmth in Alex’s gut, well, that must just be the biscuits.

Henry does try Alex’s biscuits as well; they pass them around at lunch. He says he likes them, and that little warmth in Alex’s gut must just be from his coffee. He and Henry are sharing a table with the group that’s quickly become “theirs”, and they, Nora, Pez, Ahaan, and Liam spend most of lunch talking about anything but the technical. They’re all worried, which goes without saying, so there’s no need to dwell on it. Instead, Alex and Shaan complain about tempering chocolate in rainy weather, and Nora tells them that it’s their own damn faults for picking it. Liam says they should have gotten used to rain, living in Scotland, and Pez calls them cowards for not trying something more elaborate. It’s a table full of laughter, and it’s fun. Henry’s quiet, but he seems content, if not exactly happy. When Alex gets a second to ask if he’s alright, he nods.

“I am. I’m just… glad I made him proud, is all. And glad to not be worrying about it anymore.” Alex just nods, bumping his knee against Henry’s under the table, and Henry smiles at him.

Still, their relaxed lunch can’t last forever. As they file back into the tent for whatever mystery their technical will be, the pit in Alex’s stomach opens up again, swallowing any sense of calm he’d had over lunch. He hates this. All his friends are good at technicals, with their logic and reasoning and understanding of baking chemistry. Henry’s a wizard at understanding vague directions, and Nora knows exactly why things happen on a molecular level, and Shaan just always has everything under control. Alex is always convinced he’s going to fail them. 

Prue’s advice to take things in order doesn’t help calm him down at all. But when Sandi announces shortbread, he feels his heart leap. And when it’s millionaire’s shortbread, it’s even better. He makes this all the time. For once in his life, he knows what he’s doing. He’s setting his oven and getting his ingredients before he’s even had a look at the recipe, and when he does look, it’s not very helpful. Just four short instructions:

1\. Make shortbread  
2\. Make caramel and pour on the shortbread  
3\. Temper chocolate to pour on caramel  
4\. Cut into twenty equal bars.

There are no proportions either, but Alex isn’t sure he would have used them if there were. He’s used to making shortbread bars; he’d tested his recipe for the signature in bar form more often than in biscuit form because bars are quicker. And, with bars, he can add more butter and get crumblier shortbread than in biscuit form. So he bakes, starting with something he knows and ignoring his fears of caramel and chocolate for the moment. He can make shortbread, and he can go from there. While it’s chilling and the oven finishes preheating, he can think about chocolate and caramel and proportions. 

The chocolate and caramel come sooner than he’s ready for, but he can deal with them. And he does deal with them, only burning the caramel twice and only having chocolate seize three times. All in all, there’s a reason to have two pots of chocolate going at the same time, because he gets one to temper much quicker than if he’d done them one by one.

Then comes time to get them out of the pans, and he can hear people around him having trouble with the caramel sticking and the shortbread crumbling, but if Abuela Diaz taught him anything, it’s that you put butter and flour on your pans when you bake. His shortbread comes right out, and then it’s the most stressful part of the bake: equal bars. 

That requires math. 

He’s not supposed to look around, but he does, and Nora seems on top of things, and she knows how to do math, so breaks every rule and just asks her how she’s cutting hers. Then he asks Zahra, just to be sure they’re doing the same thing. When they are, he goes back to his own bake with their ideas, and he’s finishing up arranging things on the board just as Noel calls two minutes. 

He turns around, ready to help anyone who needs it, and his eyes land on Henry, who’s worried. Alex is at his bench in a heartbeat, and he’s saying something about how he can help. He’s not sure exactly what, but Henry’s nodding and looking calmer as they force the shortbread out of the pan. They get it on the plate, and if it’s a bit sloppy on the bottom, at least it’s out and there. 

Carrying his bake up last week had felt almost unreal, but this week it feels, if not normal, more like something he’s supposed to be doing. He still takes a seat next to Henry, but this time, it’s Henry who grabs his hand. 

“I think I messed up the caramel,” Henry mumbles, but Alex shakes his head. 

“You got a handshake this morning. You’ll be fine.” 

Henry just squeezes his hand, and Alex goes quiet as the judges taste their shortbread. His biggest worry is the caramel; if the chocolate is too thick and the caramel hasn’t set it’ll just ooze out the sides when they bite into it. He didn’t have trouble cutting, but that feels different somehow. 

When it’s his shortbread, though, the caramel stays in. And it stays in Henry’s, and in Cash’s. At some point he stops worrying about the caramel and worries about other things as the judges talk. Then they’re back with results, and Henry’s holding his hand so tightly Alex isn’t sure he’ll have feeling in his fingers after this. He doesn’t mind as much as he thought he might. He also doesn’t seem to have quite the same knot in his stomach as he did before. Which, he’s sure, is just because they’ve just announced that Hunter is in last place. It has nothing to do with Henry’s hand in his. 

The feeling in his gut evolves slowly as they go down the line toward first place, and his name isn’t called. By fifth place, he figures they’ve probably just skipped his somehow. By third, they’ve forgotten him for sure; they’ve just skipped his and they’ll realize and he’ll be last. But then they’re standing in front of it and saying it came first, and Henry’s hugging him, so it must be real somehow. He’s come first in the technical. That’s one of the Bake Off checklist things done. 

It still hasn’t quite sunk in as they load into the minibus to go back to the hotel for the night. He’s had interview time to process it, and he’s called June and listened to her scream about it, since they’d first had millionaire’s shortbread together when they moved to Scotland. Still, the pats on the back and congratulations as they load up don’t feel real or deserved, and knowing what’s coming tomorrow, he can’t even think about baking for the rest of the night without worrying. Luckily, Pez seems to get it, and suggests a no-bake-talk rule when they get dinner that night. The others are on board, so instead of talking about baking, they talk about their jobs and their families and their lives and other things that feel much more important anyway. 

By the time he’s in bed that night, he’s dealt with coming first in the technical. That feels real enough. What he hasn’t dealt with yet is the way holding Henry’s hand made him feel. It had felt like he didn’t have to worry about his bake anymore, like it didn’t matter. Which shouldn’t mean anything, but for some reason, it keeps him up. 

He’s still up early the next morning, nerves keeping his exhaustion at bay as he gets ready and goes downstairs. Henry and Shaan are talking again, and Henry smiles and pushes out a chair as Alex gets coffee. It feels like he’s being invited into some sort of sacred ritual, and he tries not to be obtrusive as Henry and Shaan talk about their plans for the day. Today’s challenge is biscuit sculptures, which surprised no one but still feels scary. They’re meant to build a place that’s special to them, so Shaan is talking about the first time he ever got to design an exhibit and how he worked to celebrate the people of color who inspired so much of the culture that surrounds them. Alex just drinks his coffee and learns about exhibit design and pretends to follow the conversation as well as Henry seems to be able to, but at least he’s not worrying about constructing a lake house out of sugar cookies and gingerbread. 

The bus is outside before they get to a discussion of his or Henry’s plans, but they walk out together, and Alex lets Henry slide into the window seat before he sits next to him and asks about his plans.

“Oh, I’ve… I suppose this might be a bit unfair, but I spoke to the set designer at work about things, and she helped me work it out. My first play there was a pretty simple set, sort of just a raked-- sloped stage with some pillars and things, so she helped me design a little replica of it. The bit I’m worried about is a tree; it’s meant to move up and down but I’m not sure how that will work in biscuit form.”

Alex laughs at that. “Of course you’d do something amazing like that.”

“Yes, well, I’ve had professional help, and it may not even work. But what about you? What are you planning on?”

“There’s a lake house my family always used to visit growing up. My parents won a case for the owners, so they’d let us use it whenever we wanted. I swear we went every spring break from middle school on, and it was just a nice place to sort of get away from everything, you know? So I’m doing that. Hopefully with an isomalt lake, though obviously that’s a bit up in the air since isomalt’s a bitch.”

Henry laughs at that, and whatever little thrill that gives Alex really doesn’t mean anything. 

They’re getting out and finding their benches sooner than Alex is fully ready for, but that’s sort of how it always feels. He lays out his plans at the top of the bench and sees Henry doing the same across the center aisle, then takes a deep breath as the judges and hosts ramble about the challenge. He should probably be listening, but he’s more focused on taking a second to breathe before the chaos of the next few hours sets in.

He’s got his plans ready, though, and even if he hasn’t had help from someone who designs buildings for a living, he’s been making gingerbread houses for ages. That’s all this is really; an overly complex gingerbread house with sugar cookie decorations. And besides, when he’s baking, he can’t worry about his exams or his job prospects for the next year, he’s just got to think about things like whether or not he needs to add more icing to hold the roof together. He’s going for a classic gingerbread house look, reminiscent of the ones he and June made together when they were kids, and the judges seem excited about his nostalgic design. It’s interesting trying to blend their Christmas tradition with their summer one, but really, the lake house was the only place he could reasonably build when they asked for somewhere important to him. 

Time goes more quickly than he’s ready for. It always seems to go too fast in practice, but he always assumes that’s because he sets his timer for thirty minutes shy of the actual time. He’s used to having built-in time to worry and fuss with things, but somehow, it gets away from him. He’s just cutting his mom out of sugar cookie dough and his dad out of leftover gingerbread, something he should have been doing with an hour left, when they call thirty minutes. It’s a blur from there; he can’t seem to think about much of anything as he bakes and decorates and decorates some more until they call time and he steps away. It feels like coming up for air. 

He looks around to see similar reactions from the bakers around him. His eyes find Henry’s bench automatically, and he’s just in time to see Henry experimentally turn something. The little tree branch crossing Henry’s stage goes up into the rafters. Alex’s jaw drops. 

“No. No way you did that; that’s amazing! Let me see.” He’s crossed to Henry’s bench without even thinking about it, and Henry grins, turning a biscuit wheel and lowering the little tree. He turns another, and sprinkles fall onto the stage. Another, and a little chandelier comes down. Alex gawks. 

“You are absolutely incredible. If you don’t get star baker this week I’m going to riot.”

“Hush; it might taste awful. You’re going to jinx me,” Henry says, shoving him out of the tent after the others. Alex just rolls his eyes. Henry’s gotten a handshake and made the most incredible biscuit building he could have ever imagined. There is absolutely no way he’s leaving without the title.

His bake seems to be the talk of the town during their down time, and Alex just talks him up as he blushes. Somehow, apparently, he’d thought he could just make a biscuit stage with moving pieces and not have everyone be in awe of him. He just wants to talk about the play, so while the others move to talking about other bakes, Alex sits and listens to Henry ramble on about Virginia Woolf until everyone’s been interviewed and they’re going back in for judging. 

Alex is close enough to the front to hear a bit of what’s happening with everyone, so he hears about how Hunter used a butter alternative and it made his shortbread not crumble right, and how Cash built his kids’ dream tree house. The judges like Alex’s lake house, and Prue likes that he’s picked a design style that fits with the idea of them having been kids when most of his memories there happened. Then Henry brings up his stage, and he shows them the moving pieces, and Paul says it’s the most impressive thing they’ve had on the show. There is absolutely no doubt in Alex’s mind about Henry getting star baker, and he gets to see Henry grin as the judges taste and love his construction. He gives Henry a thumbs up as he walks back to his bench, and Henry smiles at him, and any of Alex’s worries dissipate. He hasn’t had the best day, but he doesn’t think he’s in danger of going home, and that’s what matters. 

They munch on each other’s bakes while the judges deliberate, and Alex is thrilled to confirm that Henry’s tastes as incredible as it looks. Henry just looks proud, and Alex gets a video of the little construction moving, then all but forces Henry to send it to his sister and the designer who helped him build it. 

The judges are back before they’re ready, but they’re always back somehow both too soon and not soon enough. Henry’s by Alex’s side again, clinging to Alex’s hand. 

“Our star baker this week is someone who wowed the judges with a family favorite, then drew back the curtain on what Paul said was the most impressive thing he’s ever seen in this tent.” 

Alex hugs Henry even before they announce his name, and from what he can tell, Henry is the only one even a little bit surprised. The awful bit comes next, and despite knowing he’s done well, Alex feels a twisting in his gut. Henry squeezes his hand, and the knot undoes itself a tiny bit, then untwists fully as they announce that Hunter’s crumbly shortbread will be enough to send him home. They appreciate his push to be healthier, but it didn’t work out, and he won’t be joining them next week. And Alex wants to be sad, he does, but he can’t find it in himself to be too upset when he and Henry and their friends are coming back next week. 

Their post-show interviews happen, and then they’re back at the hotel for their luggage before going to the train station. Alex calls June, letting her know he’s staying on. She asks about Henry, and Alex gets to brag about him again, telling her about the incredible biscuit construction and how amazing his signature was. When he’s finished the call, he’s focused on looking for a seat on the train and spots a blond head.

He’s already grinning as he slides into the seat across from Henry. “This one taken?”

“Not at all.” Henry smiles at him, too, moving his things a bit closer to his side of the table so Alex has room.

Alex grins, setting down his bag and sliding in across from Henry before he asks, “Hey, you’re from London, right? I take the train through there on my way here; would you want to ride together?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Just, I don’t know, coordinate. We’re always on the same train back, so we could take the same one in, too. It would make it easier for the production team to pick us up.” 

“Alright, that sounds good. You did well today.” 

“Thanks. Not so bad yourself, Mr. Star Baker.” 

“I’m just glad everything worked out. I am not looking forward to next week.” Alex groans at even the thought of it.

“Oh god no. I can just hear him now. ‘It’s under proved, and under baked. I won’t eat it; you might as well just go home now. I’m personally offended, and you should be ashamed to call yourself a baker.’” 

“Your Paul impression is awful,” Henry says, but he’s smiling, and really, that was Alex’s whole goal. The thought of bread week next week is horrifying, but this isn’t the place to be worried about it. That can wait until tomorrow at the earliest.

“What are you working on?” Alex asks, nodding to the book open beside Henry and his laptop. Henry smiles. 

“Research. The next play I’m on is set in America, and it’s about some worker’s rights movements over there, so I’ve got my work cut out for me really.” 

“Ooh, which ones? My mom was a lawyer over there, and my dad’s parents were big in the UFW, so I might know some stuff.”

“Well, one reference is the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, so I doubt you’d have any personal experience with that. But the meatpacking ones in Kentucky? From the 1990s?”

Alex thinks for a second, then shakes his head. He’s never heard of them, even, but Henry doesn’t need to know that. Mentally, he considers if legislating a need for more workers’ history in schools would do anything to help. “I think my mom might have worked a case related to the ‘90s ones; I’ll ask her. If she didn’t, she might have a friend who did.” 

“If you could ask, that would be lovely.”

“Yeah; give me a sec to text her before you get back into it. You say in the early 1990s? In Kentucky?”

“Louisville in particular; the 1993 strike at the Fishcer’s meat packing plant.”

“Great.” Alex is on his phone, and after a minute, he reads out, “Hey; I’ve got a friend who’s doing some research on the Louisville meat packing strikes from 1993. Did you work/know anyone who did work with those?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. See? This is why we should ride the train together. That, and it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to on the way in. It’s weird trying to focus on anything but baking on the ride.”

“Oh, I know. The whole time coming in this week I was trying to do things but couldn’t stop looking at my plans for the set piece. It’ll be nice to have someone else to talk to about things; we should exchange numbers and you can let me know what train you’re on.”

“Perfect.” And then Alex has Henry’s number in his phone, and he’s texting him a bunch of emojis of baked goods to make him laugh. June would probably have something to say about how interested he is in hearing Henry laugh and helping Henry worry less, but June’s not here, and Alex steadfastly ignores the little voice telling him that she would see something. There’s nothing between him and Henry, nothing at all, just a budding friendship between two good friends. And if June would see something else there, well, that’s something for June to work out herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell I miss theater because I'm just projecting everything about shows I've worked on onto Henry. The set he makes was our set when I worked on _Orlando_ last year and I miss it a whole lot (also the play he asks Alex about is called _Slaughter City_ and it is SO GOOD I want to work on it so bad).  
> -  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	3. Bread Week

Henry is absolutely not looking forward to baking bread in a tent, but that’s not a problem for right now. Right now, his problem is finding Alex on a train. 

Alex had texted him a car number, and he’d made sure to check it a few times before he got on. It’s moving now, so if he’s gotten it wrong, he’s stuck. He’s wandering down the center aisle, trying to catch a glimpse of the brown curls or Alex’s grin. It’s not a particularly big car, so it shouldn’t be too hard, but he can’t seem to find Alex anywhere. He’s about to give up, assume he’s gotten something wrong and just spend the trip alone, when Alex’s curls pop up from behind a seat. 

Henry feels a wave of relief wash over him, and he slides in across from Alex with a grin. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d wanted to sit together until faced with the idea of another lonely train ride to worry. Alex is rubbing his eyes, and he smiles at Henry through a yawn.

“Hello. Sorry. Fell asleep.”

“Good morning to you, too, sleepyhead. I’ll get you a coffee when they come round,” Henry says as Alex yawns. 

“You’re a saint. Ready for this week? Or should I say, bread-y for it?” Alex’s grin is shit-eating, and Henry heaves a longsuffering sigh.

“I’m going to yeet you out a window.” 

Alex laughs at that, and it already feels better than any of Henry’s other train rides. When the cart with drinks comes around, Henry buys them their coffee and tea, and Alex promises to get it on the way back. They fall into a conversation about their weeks, and how Alex has exams coming up, and Henry’s starting rehearsals, meaning he’s just learning how the cast and team work together for this particular show. 

They get to learn more about each other’s lives, as slowly, their small talk gets deeper, into conversations about why Alex wants to do law and why theater matters to Henry so much. Henry talks about his dad, about going to watch him act as a kid was so exciting and how his whole family would be interested in the same thing for a little while. He talks about having worked on a musical with Bea, and how much he loved getting to spend more time with her during the process. Alex talks about watching his parents take on pro bono work to help people, and about seeing all the world’s problems and wanting the power to do something about them. He talks about wanting to change systems and uproot centuries of oppression, and he’s all but glowing as he talks about the importance of people who are in law for more than just the money. 

Somehow, the train ride is shorter than it’s ever been. While the others have just been Henry longing to get there, with this one, he finds himself wishing for more time on the train, just so he can keep watching Alex talk. Still, Alex keeps talking even as they get off and go to find their ride, and that’s good enough for now. On the way back, he’ll have something else to get Alex excited about so that he can stay distracted. 

As much as he’s enjoying getting to know Alex, the next morning, Henry is glad he’s not there. Instead it’s Shaan who meets him in the hotel’s lobby, Henry’s tea already sitting across from him. It’s just the way Henry likes it. When he’s surprised, Shaan just shrugs.

“You get the same thing every time; I thought I’d have it ready for you. How are rehearsals going?”

And with that, Henry talks about rehearsals, about figuring out how a new group of people will work and what his role will be in the emotional side of things. Shaan agrees, talking about trying to make an exhibit work with people from different disciplines with different traditions. 

They’re commiserating over the ways little things can become the biggest issue when Alex emerges from the stairs, his hair barely tamed and rubbing his eyes. Henry pushes out a chair for him, like always, and Alex smiles as he fills up his coffee cup. Shaan gives Henry a look he can’t quite identify, then goes back to talking about the different ways that things are labeled in different disciplines. Alex sits down with them, and Henry fixes a bit of his hair, and Shaan doesn’t say anything, but Henry can tell he’s noticing. He can tell Shaan’s noticing as they get on the bus and Alex slides in next to him, chugging his coffee before resting his head on Henry’s shoulder. Henry doesn’t say anything. 

Their first challenge of the day, the signature, is a breakfast bread. Which, really, could mean anything. The hosts are doing a bit at the front of the tent, apparently trying to name every breakfast bread they can think of. Henry’s not quite paying attention. The “crumpets and muffins and waffles, oh my!” chant is more a soundtrack to his stress than anything else. He’s decided on orange rolls, and when the judges come around to ask why, he just grins.  
“Well, they’re my sister’s favorite. When we were kids, none of us got up early enough to make fresh bread for breakfast, but my dad used to go down to a bakery and buy them for us on special occasions.”

“Have you been making them for her for breakfast now, then?” Noel asks, and Henry laughs, shaking his head.

“No; we still sleep too late to make bread for breakfast. I did decide to make them here just so I’d have an excuse to practice for her, though,” he admits, and Sandi tells him he’s sweet.

Really, with Bea, there’s no possible way to celebrate her too much, but Henry doesn’t say that. He just tells them that he likes making her happy, and they tell him he’s a good brother and move on, leaving him to bake. 

The thing about baking bread, though, is that there’s a lot of down time. He makes the dough in a frenzy, then makes the fillings while it’s proving, then turns around and finds nothing left to do but wait. He looks around to see what other bakers are doing with their spare time, and he sees them in similar boats. He makes eye contact with Alex across the tent and grins, then goes over. He’s aware of a camera following him as he gets to Alex and sees the issue, stifling a laugh.

“You’ve got dough in your hair.”

“What? No. Where?” Alex swats at his head, his floury hands only making things worse. 

“You’re just getting flour everywhere. No, not... almost... here, let me.” Alex tips his head forward, and Henry wipes his hands off on his apron. And then his hands are in Alex’s hair, and he very nearly forgets what they’re meant to be doing there. Alex’s hair is soft, and for a split second, he imagines a world where he can do this regularly. But then he picks out the dough, brushes over the spot a few times to make sure he’s got it, brushes some of the flour out, and steps back. He hands Alex the bit of dough, and Alex grins. 

“Aww, how’d you know I was saving it for later. This little bit of dough is crucial for my bake; it’ll make all the difference,” he jokes, tossing it in the trash. Henry rolls his eyes, and Alex says, “We should do something while we wait for things to prove. A game or something; I don’t know. I’m bored. This is why I hate bread.”

“Don’t let Paul hear you say that.”

“It’s true! The only thing that’ll keep me from an underproved mess is that I’m too competitive to take my bread out first. You have no idea how much awful bread I’ve made my friends eat this week.”

“Do you not just find something else to do while it’s proving?” Henry asks. “You’re a student; make a study guide and check when you’re done or something.”

“See, but that would be a smart way to do it. I’m not a thinker like you; I just sit around and wait and rush everything.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but Alex doesn’t seem to mind them talking, so he hangs out for a bit longer, talking with Cash as well about how he bakes around kids and occasionally times things by how many episodes of She-Ra they need to spend in the oven. When the dough is ready to come out for shaping and he has to go, Henry does so happily, with a last grin at Alex as he leaves. 

From there, it’s the home stretch, full of things he’s done a million times before. He’s confident in his work, and when the judges call time and he looks at what he’s done, he feels good. He looks around as they leave the tent, and Shaan and Liam look happy, but then his eyes land on a worried Alex. Apparently, he’s scared the second prove was too short or that his bake is too simple. They’d told him to make sure it was done perfectly, and he’s pretty sure it wasn’t, and he doesn’t know what to think. 

He’d told Henry that he can’t do bread, but Henry had brushed him off, talking about how he’d be fine and shouldn’t worry. Now, seeing him so concerned, Henry’s suddenly hit with the realization that there’s a chance Alex could leave. The chance has always been there; their places aren’t guaranteed. But it’s never felt real until now. And suddenly, he realizes that he really, really wants Alex here.

The judging is scarier than it’s ever been. Henry’s confident with his bake, but knowing that Alex isn’t, and worse, not knowing if he’s justified, is awful. Even as the judges are enjoying his rolls, complimenting him on the texture and the balance of flavors and telling him he’s a good brother, a little piece of him is worried for Alex. Because Alex’s judging went badly. Henry’s close enough to see his shoulders slump, and to hear the tone at his bench, if not the words themselves. 

After, as they’re going to lunch, he hears about Alex’s deepest fears being confirmed. His bread was underproved, and his baking wrong, so even if the flavor was alright, the texture was too dense in some parts and doughy in others. And now they have to do a technical. A bread technical, which they all know will be the worst, but will be worse for some than others. Henry’s comfortable with bread, if he doesn’t love it. Nora loves it, and so does Cash, from what it sounds like. Liam has good memories making it and a few disaster stories that have them laughing over lunch. But all those stories, all that excitement and happiness, doesn’t make Alex’s shoulders relax. 

It comes sooner than any of them really want, and they go back to the tent to gingham clad mysteries. Henry gives Alex’s shoulder a squeeze as they part, and Alex gives him a nervous smile. The judges’ only advice is to take their time, which is already scary, because if there’s anything Henry knows about Alex it’s that he’s never once learned the meaning of patience. Then they’re gone, and Noel and Sandi are talking about the bake. The word ‘sourdough’ leaves Noel’s mouth. Henry feels a jolt of terror. 

He’s never worked with sourdough; he’d gotten rid of his starter after a series of failed planning attempts. 

He’s willing to bet that Alex has even less experience with it. Of their whole group, Nora seems the only one who would really use sourdough, so at least they’re all going to be disasters together, but a disaster for him will be so much easier than a disaster for Alex. 

They’re making sourdough waffles, and Henry is at least glad for that, because he and Bea had always celebrated things with waffles. He’d gotten her a waffle iron for her college graduation, and they’ve become a breakfast tradition on big days. She’s been making them for him every Friday since the show started. So he knows the concept, even if he’s not used to a starter, and that feels good. He can tell Noel and Sandi and the cameras about their tradition and how many waffles he’s eaten since the show started, and they can tell him that he should feel good when he really wants to see how Alex is holding up. 

It feels somehow like it takes forever and no time at all before they’re calling the two minute warning, and Henry is topping the waffles with berries and whipped cream, bringing them up to the table to put behind his picture and settling on a stool. Alex finds him, and he’s the one to grab Henry’s hand this time, squeezing tightly. Cash sits beside him, a wall of confidence and support, and Alex relaxes a bit, though his grip stays firm. Henry just squeezes back. 

Alex isn’t last. Last place goes to Amy, who takes it with a laugh about how she would have won if her wife wasn’t allergic to gluten, and it lightens the mood, even when Alex is ninth. Still, the bus ride back to the hotel is hard with Alex next to him. Henry tries his best to keep him happy, but Alex is worried, and he has a reason to be. He needs a really good bake tomorrow, but it’s a challenge that feels set up for him. Non-British breads, when he’s yet to make a single British food in the competition, is his challenge. He has a chance. That’s what Henry repeats to himself all night: Alex is going to crush the next challenge, and he’s going to stay. It’s what he tells Bea when they talk that night, and he can tell she’s thinking something, but he doesn’t ask. It’s what he tells Shaan the next morning, as they’re talking about the upcoming challenge, and Shaan just gives him a look that Henry’s not caffeinated enough to decipher. 

Still, the bus ride to the tent is tense. Alex’s knee is constantly bouncing up and down beside him, making their whole seat vibrate. Eventually, Henry reaches over to rest a hand on it, giving it a bit of a squeeze.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay. You’re good at this, and whatever you do is going to taste amazing. If you take your time, it’ll be okay.”

“Thanks,” Alex says, though he doesn’t look particularly relaxed. “I just don’t want to go home yet, you know?”

“I don’t want you to go home yet, either. After all, who would I ride in with?”

Alex just grins at that as the tent looms ahead of them, and as they walk in together, Henry gives his hand a quiet squeeze.

Still, the start of the bake is tense, but when Henry looks over at Alex part way through, he’s more relaxed than he’s been all weekend. There’s a massive loaf sitting on the side of his bench, and it looks heavenly, and even better, Alex is smiling. He’s got a mass of pink in front of him, and Henry’s not sure what that is, but if it works out as well as the loaf he’s finished and that loaf tastes as good as it looks, then hopefully, he’s done enough to stay. 

Henry’s feeling good about his bakes when time is called, but when he looks at Alex’s bench, he’s thrilled. The massive loaf of pan de muertos is there, gorgeous as ever, and it’s surrounded with little bread seashells and bulls that Alex had sung the praises of on their train ride at the start of the weekend. It’s second nature to wrap him in a hug, and he hugs Henry back tightly. “I… I think maybe I did it.”

“If they taste even half as good as they look, I think you did.”

Alex grins as they file out, all but collapsing onto the wicker couch in their rest area and leaning against Henry the minute they sit down. Henry wraps his arm around Alex’s shoulders automatically, and he feels them relax for the first time since the signature. They give their interviews, and they hear about other bakes, but all Henry can really focus on is the fact that Alex has done well. Alex is hopefully going to stay another week, and somehow, that feels like all that matters. 

Judging has more weight than it has in the past, but Henry is close enough to the front that he can hear almost all of Alex’s. And he can hear how thrilled Paul is with the different pastries in front of them. He likes the way that the different doughs have different textures, the pink coating apparently crumblier than the bread underneat it. Prue loves the look of them, the bright colors and shapes. Henry’s just glad he’s close enough to give Alex a big smile when he takes the bread back to his bench. 

It might not be enough, and Henry knows that, but now he has a chance. Henry’s own judging goes well; the judges like his ideas and flavors but aren’t trilled with all the textures. Still, it’s not a judging that’s particularly important, as much as he knows it should be. He was never really in the running for star baker this week, and he’s not particularly at risk of leaving. He’s been solidly in the middle of the pack, and especially after doing well last week, he doesn’t mind it. 

They leave again after the tasting, trying each other’s bread to tide them over until lunch. Alex’s bread is incredible. It’s the perfect texture, and a beautiful blend of flavors, and when Nora says she would marry this bread Henry is inclined to agree with her. Alex can’t go home after this. Most of them have struggled this week, and even if Liam made the best zucchini bread any of them have ever imagined or Nora created a stunning and incredible challa, it’s not like Alex is the only one to have struggled. There’s a professor named Oliver who’s had trouble with proving things, and Amy’s bread was mostly gluten-free for her wife, which caused her a few issues. Alex might be lower down, but he’s not alone there. 

Still, the announcement of judging is tense. Liam wins star baker, and even with his nerves, Henry is happy for him. He’d made his boyfriend’s mom’s zucchini bread earlier, something it sounds like they make all the time, and from what he’s said, all his breads are from her recipe book. Then comes the hard part, and Alex is squeezing Henry’s hand hard, but Oliver’s name is the one that comes out of Sandi’s mouth. And as much as he likes Oliver, Henry thanks his lucky stars. He feels Alex relax beside him, then Alex is off his stool and hugging Oliver, talking about how it was just bad luck and could have been any number of them. Oliver doesn’t seem too upset, which is good, but even after the high emotions have worn off, the trip back to the hotel, and to the train station, and onto the train is hard. Alex and Henry slide into seats across from each other automatically at this point, each pulling out their phones to call sisters, but when that’s done, it’s just them and the fact that Alex has dodged a bullet. 

“Hey, I don’t think I ever thanked you back there. But thanks,” Alex says. “For, you know. Calming me down and believing I could do it. It meant a lot.”

“Of course. You’re a good baker. Bread’s not your thing, but that last challenge was practically made for you. I never doubted for a second that you’d be back next week.”

“Well, you had more faith in me than I did. So thanks.” Henry smiles and nods, then the drinks trolley comes along and Alex orders for them both without batting an eye, and it falls into the new, natural rhythm of a train ride home from being on _Bake Off_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my local Mexican coffee shop, because I sampled almost all of their pastries (and also a whole lot of horchata) "for research" while I was writing it.  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	4. Holiday Week

This is it. After last week’s disaster, this is Alex’s redemption. He can feel it. He’s ready to go, ready to bake things he’s been making for family holidays for ages. It’s going to be a good weekend

When Henry sits down across from him, looking tired but happy, that feeling only grows. He and Henry talk about their weeks, and Henry buys his coffee without having to ask how he likes it, which makes him grin. It feels good. They’ve gotten into a routine now, one where they distract each other from the stress of the weekend and instead talk about their weeks, and their lives, and what they’re planning. They play tic-tac-toe on a napkin, and Henry wins twice in a row before they switch to hang man. And it’s fun. 

The train ride goes quicker than it ever has, and they get to the hotel with time to play more games with some of the other contestants before bed, so they play card games with Nora, Pez, Liam, Amy, and Cash over snacks. Something about a week dedicated to holiday foods has them in an especially good mood, and that continues through the night and into the next morning. 

By this point, joining Henry and Shaan for coffee and tea when he gets up feels routine. Shaan is the one to ask him about his plans, and he’s thrilled to talk about Christmases growing up, the way his abuela would make a thousand cookies and his grandma would make a hundred pies. For a while, the Claremont-Diaz house hosted both sides of their family, and Alex is convinced that both tried to one-up each other as to space taken up for desserts. They had to dedicate an entire room to pies and cookies and cupcakes, to the point where they’d end up at soup kitchens with massive trays of desserts to pass out on Christmas day. 

Winter biscuits are their first challenge, so Alex is planning a few of his abuela’s recipes, though he’s had to tune down the spice for the judges. Henry volunteers to test the batter for him if he needs, and Alex promises to ask, teasing him for his delicate British taste buds while acknowledging that it would genuinely be helpful. 

He hears about Henry’s biscuits on the way to the tent, about sitting on the counter to roll out dough and having frosting fights with his siblings. It was one of the only times his mum would bake, and all five of them would share the kitchen to build a communal gingerbread house, arguing about things like the color of the shutters or the design of the roof. Henry’s cutting out and decorating little houses as an homage to that, since he didn’t want to risk a big house, and it sounds wonderful. 

Nora’s making a type of biscuit neither of them have ever heard of, but she’s excited to explain it as they walk to the tent together, and Alex feels good. 

He feels good right up until Henry comes over to taste his batter and turns bright red.   
“That’s half-spice? Do you usually kill your family?”

Alex tastes one, then swears. He’s made them perfectly for his family, which is the worst possible way to have made them. The judges are going to hate it.

“Do you have time to redo them?”

“I’ve got to. I’m going to keep this, just in case, but then I’ve got to redo them.”

“I’ll help if I can. Good luck,” Henry says, and Alex nods, heaving a sigh before he starts over, explaining to Noel what’s gone wrong. Noel tries a bit of the old dough and wheezes, then laughs, and Alex rolls his eyes. He can feel a camera on him, and he barely remembers to switch to Spanish as he restarts his biscuits.

“Fuckin white people, I swear,” he mutters, “Fuckin white people and their little baby taste buds. ‘Oh no, I can’t possibly eat a pepper, my whole mouth will be on fire!’ ‘Oh, no cinnamon for me; too spicy!’ Bitch, please, you invade the whole fuckin world for spices and colonize everyone and leave us with this shit.” 

He’s behind. He’s got to rush, and there’s a chance he could do it, but his decorating plans are going to take a hit. He can think of new ones while they’re in the oven. Right now, he just has to bake. So he does; he bakes and bakes and bakes, not letting himself be distracted. He does the batch of new ones, and when he calls Henry over, he’s thinking he might, maybe, just be able to do it. 

The new ones are good. Alex mutters a thanks to a saint he’s not sure he believes in anymore and rolls them out, cutting and getting them on trays and into the fridge as fast as possible. From there it’s a system, a tray comes out of the fridge and into the oven when the next is loaded with cookies and ready to go in. He becomes a machine, shuttling things where they need to go and whipping up some icing in the meantime. 

At thirty minutes to go, he’s starting to decorate. He’d like more time, but it’s not the end of the world. He can do it. 

At two minutes, Henry appears like a guardian angel, and he sets to work helping with decoration almost immediately. Then Cash is there, and Nora, and Alex is nearly overwhelmed with how much they’re supporting him. By the time he’s out of time and Henry is wrapping him in a hug, he’s tired, but it’s done. He snags the first batch of dough on the way out, and while they relax, he dares the others to try it. Pez and Shaan aren’t fazed, and neither is Nora, but Amy, Henry, Cash, and Liam are all left in various stages of suffering. It turns Alex’s disaster into something fun, something they can laugh at and bond over, and by the time they’ve finished interviews and are headed back into the tent for judging, Alex feels a million pounds lighter. 

And the judges like the biscuits. Noel wants them to try the first batch, and they won’t try the raw dough, but when Alex offers to bake some up just for fun, Noel’s able to pressure them into agreeing. That means Alex is baking through most of the other contestants’ judgings, but it also means that he’s pulling out a tray of Diaz family specials in time for the judges to try them. They’re as overwhelmed as he’d thought they might be, but he rolls his eyes and eats one no problem, leaving the judges shocked. Still, Paul shakes his hand for that, so Alex is happy enough as he goes to join the others and their baby taste buds for lunch. 

They can all fit around one table now, which feels strange. It’s happened fast, but it’s nice. It’s fun to talk with everyone, and it’s fun to watch Shaan and Zahra interact; Alex is no expert, but there might be sparks flying there. He’ll have to ask Henry if he’s noticed anything from Shaan, or maybe he’ll bring things up tomorrow morning if it feels right. They talk about the past bake, and the technical, and Liam has some great cookie tips from Spencer’s mom, who apparently makes the biggest platters of cookies every year and gives them to her whole neighborhood. They’ve all got fun holiday stories about their last bakes, with Nora talking about making Rugelach as a kid and everything falling out, or Zahra talking about making double cookies with her family to celebrate both Christmas and Kwanzaa, which meant they were celebrating holidays and eating cookies from December 24th to January 1st every year. It’s fun, and it keeps them from worrying about the technical, which really, is what they all need.

Still, the technical comes, and Prue’s set it for them. The advice is to keep at it, which is worrying but not as bad as it could have been for someone like Alex. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s sticking with a task, even if it seems pointless. He’s beat his head against a wall enough times. 

Then comes the announcement: a raspberry syllabub custard trifle, traditionally made for weddings and other big celebratory events, because it’s relatively inexpensive and can be made in large batches. But they’re not just doing a syllabub, they’re also making the rest of the trifle.

Alex is sure all this would mean something to him if he had any idea what syllabub is. Still, he can follow the recipe and go from there. He makes a quick sponge for the base, makes a custard and lets it set. Helps Amy remember the proportions for a sponge that uses flour with gluten in it. Layers his own sponge on the bottom of a bowl. Looks over to see Shaan doing it differently and arranges his sponges so they match Shaan’s better, because really, Shaan seems to know what he’s doing. Glances over at Pez’s bench to see something much brighter than what anyone else has, but that’s not especially surprising. He gets the custard onto the sponges, then starts on the actual syllabub, which he has never heard of in his life.

Still, he follows the recipe as best he can. Heats sugar and wine, adds milk, and beats. The recipe doesn’t tell them what to beat it to, but Alex has made whipped cream in his day, and he tried a whipped coffee not too long ago. So he beats it to that point and chills it while he waits for the custard to set, and at thirty seconds, he pulls it all out and dumps it unceremoniously on top of everything, sprinkling it with bits of dried raspberry as the hosts call time. He sneaks a bit out of the bowl, and it’s not half-bad. He hasn’t tried it all together, but this bit seems to be the biggest part of the challenge, and it’s not awful. That doesn’t stop him from taking a seat next to Henry or grabbing Henry’s hand, but neither of them seem to be squeezing this week, and that’s a plus. Shaan sits next to Zahra, and Alex has time to clock that before Pez sits beside him with a joke about how they’ll know his immediately by how colorful it is. He’s not wrong, as much as Alex wants to reassure him.

The judges come out, and they taste things, and it seems decent enough. Amy comes in last place with a syllabub that’s not been beaten enough; she’d had trouble with her sponge and lost time to do it right. Pez is next to last; the raspberry in his dish is apparently too much for the judges. Alex is fourth, which he’s not upset about. But Henry comes in first, which is cause for celebration as far as Alex is concerned. He’s the first to hug Henry, and to watch the smile break out over his face. On the car ride back, he brushes it off as just being because he’s made syllabub before, but he’s happy. 

They all get dinner together that night, and they continue the card games they’d played the night before. Nora absolutely crushes them all at poker, though Zahra puts up a good fight, but the pot goes to a late night ice cream trip that has them all laughing and yawning as they go to bed. Somehow, even though he knows it’s getting harder, Alex is less and less worried as the weeks go on. The more time he spends with these people, the happier he is to have gotten to know them and to have had any sort of experience here at all. 

He oversleeps the next morning, so he’s hurrying into the lobby just as the others are starting to load the bus. Henry hands him a coffee as Alex slides into a seat next to him, and Alex thanks him profusely, then asks about the showstopper. They’ve been asked to create a holiday cake, and Alex is planning one for Dia de los Muertos, decorated with calaveras and candy corn for both his Mexican and American experiences of the holiday and its intersection with Halloween, with a big cake skull on top. Henry is making one for Christmas, a big wreath with presents and a santa hat, but he’s worried it’s too traditional. They’re technically only judged on the way their bakes turn out, but Henry’s worried that the fact that his cake isn’t the most original will hurt his score for presentation if it’s not done perfectly. Still, neither of them had a bad day yesterday, so it feels much, much better than last week’s showstopper. Alex isn’t fighting for his life with a dish literally called bread of the dead anymore, and that feels like a win. 

They settle in behind benches, and Alex sees the calaveritas he’d made a few days before sitting in amidst the rest of his ingredients. He’d called June while he made them, getting her help to design them because he’d always been too hurried to take his time and make them look nice. It’s easier with her on Skype in the background, playing guitar or talking about her latest article. He tells the judges that when they come around, explaining the process of decorating and curing the calaveritas, how he and June used to eat them all in one go and make themselves sick on pure sugar. That makes them laugh, which feels good, and Sandi loves that he’s making a dish that so reflects both his experience and the places his family came from. They’re not used to seeing things for Dia de Los Muertos in the UK, but they think his designs are beautiful and wish him luck, and Alex thanks them before he says goodbye and gets back to the cake. The actual flavors probably aren’t as exciting as the design, but he’s doing a blend of Mexican ones, leaning on horchata and pan de muertos and the warm cinnamony tastes of his dad’s and abuela’s kitchens. 

Still, what takes time on this bake is the decoration. Good calaveras are intricately decorated, and Alex wants to honor that as best he can with the skull on top of his cake, which means not only carving it into the right shape and covering it with fondant well, but also delicately piping flowers and leaves around a careful smiling face in the center. 

It’s tiring. His forearms are killing him, and his back hurts from leaning over. But when he steps back and shakes his arms out, it’s done, and it’s not half-bad. He gets on with the rest of the decoration, carefully-placed candy corn and calaveritas finding decorative homes amidst the black icing of the middle layer of the cake, and a coat of orange going on the bottom one so that Alex can come back and pipe a jack-o-lantern’s face onto it. He’s finished early, which means he has time to help Henry sprinkle the last of some green coconut on his wreath as time is called. 

“If my arms fall off, someone grab them for me,” Alex says, smiling as they leave the tent. “I just piped a million little icing flowers and dots and swirls.”

“Come here, you.” Henry pulls him onto a couch, grabbing his forearm to massage it as the other contestants settle around them. 

“So, how’d it go for y’all? I’m going to die but at least I’ll leave a decent cake behind,” Alex says. He’s met with a cacophony of groans.

“I didn’t finish,” Amy says. “I burnt a layer and had to remake it. Frosting was sliding off; it was a disaster. I might tell them it represents the first Christmas I brought my wife to.”

“I didn’t do well, either,” Cash admits. “It looks like my three year old got to it.”

“I saw the rainbow explosion on your bench, and I would just like to say that if your three year old uses all those colors, then they have excellent taste,” Pez says, and that’s enough to get them laughing again, to lighten the mood as Zahra reaches over to rub Amy’s shoulder a bit. Shaan isn’t happy with his bake, either, though Alex can’t imagine his being anything but impeccable. Shaan is too smooth for a disastrous bake. He’d made one for diwali, covered in little blown sugar bulbs to represent lanterns, and Alex wouldn’t be surprised if it lit up with some sort of edible electrical system. After Henry’s stage, it wouldn’t be out of place this year. 

Eventually, they’re called back in for the final judging of the week, carefully carrying their bakes up for feedback. Pez brings up a cake that Alex recognizes as New York’s Stonewall Inn, covered in rainbows that feel more appropriate than anything else he’s made rainbow yet, and Alex grins. Apparently, Pez has chosen to celebrate the riots with his cake, and the thought of having people around the country and world see that warms Alex’s heart. Pez never gives anything away, but Liam is close enough to hear the feedback, and he looks happy, so Alex trusts that and gives Pez a thumbs up as he comes back through the tent. He brings his own cake up to the front almost nervously; he’s pretty sure they’ll be alright with the flavors, but it’s always a little terrifying to present things that England doesn’t usually use. 

But it goes well. They’re impressed with the complexity of the flavor of horchata, and when Alex explains that it’s made with rice milk, they’re impressed by the way that flavors the whole thing. Prue tells him that it’s a wonderful flavor, and Paul likes the texture. They like the calaveritas, raining more praise on his piping skills and the way that he blends the individual skulls with his larger design. While they don’t exactly love the candy corn, Prue tells him it looks nice and Noel points out that it’s an iconic Halloween treat, so overall, Alex feels good. 

Henry brings his up next, meaning they pass each other on their way up, and they share a smile as they do. Henry’s cake looks good, even if it is a bit expected; his piping is absolutely incredible. Still, the minute he sees the judges react to Liam’s cake, Alex knows it’s over. They’re so excited about it, and it looks gorgeous, and even with all his humility it’s obvious that he’s done well. They’re settling on the stools in front of the tent before too long, and Alex takes a minute to congratulate Liam and hype him up before finding his spot next to Henry. He wonders vaguely if the crew is bothered that they always sit by each other, or if there’s some sort of rule or something that they’re breaking. But Henry doesn’t seem to mind, and it’s nice to be next to someone he feels like is on his side, so he’s not exactly motivated to stop sitting next to him. 

The judges are back, and Alex isn’t scared, but it’s still nice to have Henry there. Liam gets star baker again, and he’s trying to hide it, but it’s obvious that he’s proud. He’d said something about how excited his boyfriend’s mom would be if he won again while they waited for judging, and Alex is glad for both of them that he’s done well. Then comes the scary part. 

Alex looks around a bit and realizes suddenly that he likes everyone. In other eliminations, there have been people he’s not close to or people he just doesn’t enjoy as much as others, but this week, they’ve all started to bond as a unit. He likes everyone. But it’s still a competition, and someone still has to go, and the announcement comes sooner than he’d like: Amy. They’d seen it coming, but it still hurts to see her go. She’s been so fun to spend time with, and he’s loved her so much. She gives the best hugs, so even though his hug is meant to help her, Alex can’t help but feel like he’s the one being comforted. 

The bus ride back is a mix; they badger Liam about his win until he admits that he’d only really learned to bake to connect with his boyfriend’s mom, and he’d used her recipes all weekend, and she’ll be thrilled when he tells her. And Amy talks about her wife, and how she’ll be proud no matter what, but Alex is still sad to see her go. The tension is resolved by the time they’re on the train home, though, mostly because they’re not in the same little bus as the others. Alex and Henry are across from each other, both with open laptops, when Alex gets the email and sits up excitedly. Henry looks up at him, and Alex grins.

“I got an interview with a firm in London! It’s next Friday, and if it goes well they want me there at least for the summer.” 

“That’s great; what part of the city?” Henry asks, and Alex hesitates, skimming through the email for an address.

“Clerkenwell?”

“That’s not far from me. Depending on what time it is, we could get a meal together before or after.”

“I’d like that. It’s an afternoon interview, so maybe dinner before we take the train in?”

“That sounds good.” They agree on a place, and it takes Alex until after Henry’s stop that they’ll be spending time outside of the liminal space of the Bake Off weekends. He’ll be seeing Henry in his everyday life, seeing Henry’s city and his neighborhood and one of his favorite restaurants. It’s something new, and Alex can’t wait for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a ton of research for this chapter, but I don't celebrate all the holidays that the characters do, so if I got something wrong please let me know and I'll do what I can to fix it! And in case you were wondering, syllabub (the technical) is essentially a whipped cream with alcohol in it; there's a video dedicated to it on Tasting History on YouTube.  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	5. Entree Week

When Henry meets Alex outside one of his favorite restaurants, Alex is dressed for an interview. He looks more professional than Henry’s seen him yet. Really, he looks good. He also looks tired, so after a few questions about the interview, Henry lets it drop and instead lets them talk about easier topics. It ends up being what’s happening backstage with the play he’s working on, disconnects between stage management and the director and the ways he’s trying to deal with all of them, and Alex gets to laugh at the absurdity of some of the arguments that Henry has to try and mediate over the course of the week. Because, ultimately, it does not matter how the director or stage manager sees a character’s perception of themself or what exact shade the lights should be. And it’s not awful, but Alex is enjoying it, so if Henry hypes it up a bit to make him laugh, there can’t be any harm in it. 

Their easy conversations carry them into their seats on the train, and as the country whizzes by alongside them, it’s comfortable. Henry’s not sure if he ever would have guessed he could become this comfortable with a stranger after only a few weekends with them, but Alex feels different somehow. He’s managed to push past Henry’s walls, and Henry can’t find it in himself to care. It’s more important to just enjoy their time together. He gets Alex talking about the place he’s interviewed, and he gets to see Alex light up when he talks about their pro bono work supporting marginalized peoples and fighting discrimination. Suddenly, Alex goes from a tired student to an avenging angel, and Henry could sit and watch him talk forever. 

Their train arrives too soon, and Alex realizes how long he’s been talking and seems uncharacteristically embarrassed by it. He’s less passionate as they join their driver, and the conversation switches to their plans for the bake instead, about how Alex is planning on making a macaroni pie while Henry’s planning a game one. Alex wonders aloud if Shaan will be making haggis, because as much as he loves Scotland, minced sheep organs doesn’t seem like his brand. Henry just hopes someone will make it, because he’s a big fan, which seems to catch Alex by surprise. 

The next morning over tea, Henry finds out that Shaan does intend to make a form of haggis pie, and he’s thrilled to tell Alex when he joins them. Alex is surprised, but Shaan describes how he’s planning to decorate the top of the pie, and any confusion about the delicacy of his work is gone. Alex asks if there’s anyone Shaan is trying to impress in the tent, and Shaan says the judges, which makes Alex roll his eyes and Henry laugh. Alex gets the window seat on their way in, but instead of cozying up against the edge of the bus, he leans closer to Henry to ask if he’s noticed anything budding between Shaan and Zahra. Henry rolls his eyes, but that doesn’t stop Alex from explaining reasons X, Y, and Z that Shaan and Zahra are absolutely, definitely into each other. 

Henry’s rolled eyes at “He literally always sits next to her during judging” or “They’re both just so fucking cool and good at things; they would be such a power couple” do absolutely nothing to dampen his excitement, and halfway to the tent, Henry realizes that everything Alex is pointing out is something the two of them have done together, too. They always sit next to each other during judging, and they always get meals together or look out for each other. Even more damning, they ride the train in together now. Alex doesn’t seem to have put the two together, and Henry most certainly isn’t going to do that work for him. He just tells Alex he’s reading too far into things and changes the topic, talking about hot water crusts and short crusts until the tent appears in front of them. 

Their group feels too small as they go toward the tent, and Henry is hit with a wave of surprise that he’s made it this far. They’d started with such a big group, and now that there’s space between benches and fewer people in the tent, it’s starting to feel more and more surreal. He makes a mental note to tell his team at work that he’ll be busy next weekend, too, because he’d been so sure he wouldn’t make it this far that he hadn’t thought to tell them. Making it to history week had seemed like a dream, but if he makes it through this, Henry’s got a week tailor-made for him coming up. 

The hosts and judges talk about what a savory pie is and its importance to British culture or something, but Henry tones it out in favor of a few deep breaths to steady himself. He can do this. He’s been baking game pies for ages; it’s something he’s good at. 

Their time starts, and he’s moving, finding a rhythm in the blend between cooking and baking that the pie demands. It’s something he’d usually do with Bea; she’d take the cooking portion while he made pie crusts and decorated it. She’s spent a lot of time in the kitchen with him this week, helping make sure he gets everything she usually takes care of done just right and laughing at him when he makes obvious cooking mistakes. To be fair, her cooking style is a disaster. She’d learned from their dad, who did everything by how it looked and had probably never heard of measuring in his life, so there’s always an element of adventure in their family dishes. Henry’s never been good at that, and Bea found every excuse to laugh at him as he staunchly used measuring spoons and weighed everything to develop a recipe from her chaos.

He and the judges have a good chat about the differences between cooking and baking while they take their royal tour, then he’s left to his own devices, trying to channel his older sister as he throws different things together. He just has to make it through this week, and he can bake the historical desserts that he’s always loved working with. 

When they call two minutes, his pie is close. He pulls it out with a minute left, and it’s the right internal temperature. He just has to hope it’s not soggy, or that nothing’s gone wrong inside. It all tasted good going in, so fingers crossed, everything’s fine. He wants to do Bea proud.

Their discussions outside the tent after the bake are mostly about crusts and soggy bottoms and things they’re worried about, but from what it sounds like, no one had an absolute disaster. Alex says that he’s not worried unless thyme or oregano are too spicy for the judges, and Cash laughs.

“I made this pie for my mother-in-law, and that next morning she gave me her blessing to marry her son. If it’s good enough to convince a Christian woman that her son can marry another man, I’d hope it’s good enough to convince Paul and Prue I should stay here.”

That gets them all smiling, and Alex asks, “How’d you propose?”

“Which time? The man missed the first two,” Cash says, which gets them all laughing again. “He said no to a dessert menu for the first time in his life, so I had to scramble back to the kitchen in this fancy restaurant and rescue the ring from a cupcake. Then I pretended to have found it in his jacket pocket, but he just said it wasn’t his and we must have gotten the wrong jacket by mistake. I had to improvise, so I just said something about how it wasn’t his but could be if he said yes.”

They’re all laughing now, and as Henry looks around the circle, he can’t help but notice a warm feeling in his gut. It’s started to feel good and natural to just relax with these people; they’re less like strangers he sees once a week and more like genuine friends. Somehow, in the weird liminality of a weekend TV show, Henry’s let himself be more open about things he’s dealing with, and he’s been surprised to be met with that same openness and love in return. 

As conversation moves from their bakes to their lives, Cash can talk about dealing with his kids’ pre-school and Zahra can talk about her NHS work, and Henry realizes suddenly that they’ve all become really, really good friends. And it’s going to be heartbreaking to see anyone leave.

He tries not to think about that as they go back into the tent for judging, but it’s on his mind. Someone is going home after this week, no matter how much he wants them all to just stay on and keep baking in the country forever. That’s not something he can do anything about, though, so he just watches the judging and hopes everyone has a good week. As long as no one has a disaster, he’ll be happy. And, if he says a little extra prayer for Alex, that’s between him and whoever’s listening.

If he’s paying extra attention to Alex’s judging, well, that’s also something that can stay between him and whatever camera person might be interested in it. Alex seems happy, though; Henry’s too far away to hear anything but watches him smile and nod as the judges eat. He nibbles on it a bit himself as they leave, and he looks pleased. Cash is next, and Henry hears something about his mother-in-law, which makes him grin as he hears the judges laugh. It’s a good feeling in the tent overall, and he’s glad; pies are always a bit stressful.

Henry’s own judging goes well; flavors are balanced and the bottom crust is just as flaky as it should be. Paul says he’s done Bea’s non-recipe proud. Henry can’t help a smile at that; maybe that means he’ll be able to figure out more of her cooking, especially if he wants to be able to make them when she moves out. Maybe he’ll use her dishes to woo potential flatmates or something.

At lunch, it sounds like everyone had a good judging, which Henry’s thrilled about. They’d had a few people with soggy bottoms, and a few misses with seasoning, but spirits are high. There’s speculation about the technical, and Pez swears he’d seen someone carrying massive leaves into the tent, which sparks all kinds of conversations about what in the world they could be making and how exactly leaves would factor into it. 

“It’s bread,” Henry says around his sandwich. “It’s always bread; you know how Paul is. It’s probably lembas from _Lord of the Rings_ ; that’s wrapped in leaves.”

“Oh yeah, they’re all just going to gorge themselves on bread where a single bite can fill someone up all day. Nah; it’s something from Central or South America. They cook in banana leaves so they can roast things in coals,” Alex says. “It’s like tamales or something but with leaves instead of corn husks.”

“Okay, but we’re not cooking in a fire. I think Pez just saw some prop for a bit or something; no way they’d let us see anything from the technical. It’s all mystery and everything, so they’re going to be super careful,” Nora argues. Liam sighs.

“I just know if we’re cooking in leaves, I’m screwed. I can’t even make a good lettuce wrap.”

“It’s not too hard. Here, come closer, this is how you do a steam wrap,” Shaan says, waving them all over and grabbing his napkin. He talks them through the process in case they need it, talking about how important it is to wrap things well and keep the water out. Zahra watches closely, and Alex nudges Henry’s shoulder with a little eyebrow wiggle. Henry rolls his eyes, but Alex’s shoulder stays pressed to his, and it’s significantly harder to follow the demonstration than he would have liked. 

They’re still talking about it as they go back into the tent, and when it’s announced to be pasteles, Henry sees Alex light up. They’d taken bets on where the technical would be from, and if he remembers right, Alex has just won about ten quid. That doesn’t make the actual process any easier, of course, but Alex doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems particularly bothered by technicals, though, even when Henry knows he’s had no experience with a dish. He’s always got an air of confidence about him, a sort of self-assured bravery that Henry wishes he could have even a portion of. It’s nice, having a sort of calming presence like that in the tent. Between Alex and Shaan, Henry always has someone to look to if he’s freaking out, and he’s never been gladder to be positioned close to both of them. 

When it comes time to wrap everything up, layering masa over pork and encasing the whole thing in leaves, Henry sneaks glances at Alex and Shaan to see how they do it. 

Alex in particular seems comfortable, and Henry overhears him talking about making tamales as a kid and makes a mental note to ask about it later. That seems like the kind of conversation that would make Alex’s whole face light up again, the sort of thing where he’d glow as he rambled about his abuela’s house and his family’s traditions and how much he loves connecting through food. Maybe he’ll invite Henry to a tamales party someday, and he can teach Henry how to wrap things well. He certainly has a better handle on how to use the banana leaves than Henry does, and he’s much more confident about dropping them in the boiling water to steam. That’s the part Henry’s terrified about, because if he’s wrapped them wrong, water will get into the package and it’ll all fall apart. 

Still, he has to do it. He has a feeling the pasteles have to cook for ages, and if he doesn’t get them in with enough time to fully bake, he’ll be serving raw pork to professional bakers. If he serves raw or waterlogged pork, especially after everyone had such a good bake this morning, it could be the thing to send him home. 

He’s just finishing pulling them out when the hosts call time, so he’s serving them wrapped in banana leaves, which he has to hope is the way to do it. They look cute this way; little spring Christmas presents all tied up with kitchen twine. He sets the scissors beside them, and he’s relieved to see he’s not the only one with still-wrapped food. Some people have unwrapped theirs and laid them out, and Alex’s look wonderful, but there are a few that look sloppy. Cash’s are still in the leaves, but they’re oozing out the sides a bit, which can’t be a good sign. He’s always been one to put too much love into things, and when he sits down next to Alex for judging, Henry sees Alex grab and squeeze his hand.

The judging seems to take forever. It turns out they were expected to unwrap things, which is a strike against Henry’s, but at least it’s cooked through. That gets him third place, after Cash’s are ruled good except for the ones that exploded, and a few other folks just didn’t get theirs in with enough time to let them cook. It was a longer cooking process than any of them had really expected, but Alex coming in first doesn’t surprise Henry in the slightest. He’d been brilliant, clearly familiar with the masa in particular, and Henry couldn’t be prouder of him. 

They’re together again on the bus ride back to the hotel, and Henry leans over to say, “Hey, you were really great in there. That technical especially; you absolutely nailed it.”

Alex might actually be blushing as he says, “Thanks. I’ve been making tamales since I was like three; I’m sure that helped.”

“You were making tamales when you were three?” Henry echoes, and Alex grins.

“Yeah! We’d do it with Abuela Diaz every Christmas; the whole family would be in the kitchen working on them. They’d put baby bassinets on counters and stuff so that everyone could be part of the action, and as soon as you could sit up you were sat on the island in the middle to lay out corn husks. My dad always put me right in the middle, and I was the one in charge of passing people things from other sides of the kitchen if they needed, you know, twine or a spoon or something.”

Henry laughs at that. “I bet you were a great go-between.”

“I was! I was definitely better at it than Cammie; she took over when I moved up to stirring pots.”

“There were stages of jobs to do? What came after stirring?”

“Spreading. We had enough younger cousins by that point that I caught up to June; we were in charge of spreading masa all over the corn husks for years before they let us get in on the actual cooking.”

“How many Chirstmases did you do this? And how many did you make?” Henry asks.

“Oh, loads. They still do it every Christmas; June and I get in on it when we’re there. It’s less about making food to eat and more about spending time with everyone at this point, you know? So we make just… tons and tons of them, but they freeze, so everyone goes home with coolers full of frozen food. It’s enough to last you until Lent if you pace them right.”

“They’re this special, but you’re not making them here? You’re not going to let any of us sample them?”

“I mean, I thought about it, but they’re not really something you make by yourself. They’re the kind of thing that you do a big assembly line for, and you take over a whole kitchen with music and laughter and practical jokes and stuff. If I made tamales in this competition I don’t think the judges or camera crew would be very happy with me. I’m glad I got to do something like them, though. It was fun. Reminded me why I would have absolutely hated making the actual ones.”

Henry laughs at that, mostly just happy that he’s gotten to watch Alex be so excited while he talks. He could watch Alex talk forever, probably about anything. It’s quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Alex’s whole face glows when he’s excited, and he gets more animated than ever, hands waving here and there to illustrate his point. He almost smacks Pez in the face getting off the bus, and that pulls Pez into the conversation with his own stories of big family Christmases, stories flavored with Jollof rice and gizdodo, and Henry learns about more dishes than he ever knew existed. Going to dinner feels like a natural progression, and Nora joins them with stories of tzimmes and tispishti and a whole host of dishes Henry never knew existed. She promises to invite them all to her family’s a day or two after Rosh Hashana so they can try leftovers, and it’s the first time they’ve made any sort of plans to get together after the show ends, and Henry is excited. 

The next morning at breakfast, he brings it up to Shaan, who hadn’t been at dinner but had been invited over text, and he agrees that it will be nice to see everyone again. He wants to do a potluck sometime during Kwanzaa so that they can all bring holiday dishes, and Henry agrees that it would be great, thinking of Alex’s tamales and Pez’s rice and the yams Zahra’s boasted about making with her family every year. 

It would be nice to see and celebrate with the others, and he suggests inviting Amy and Oliver as well, which Shaan agrees would be fun. And suddenly, they have a plan to hang out when this is all over, and Henry couldn’t be more excited about them. When Alex comes down to join them, he’s clearly still waking up, but he joins in the potluck plans enthusiastically. His hair is still sticking up on one side, and Henry reaches to brush it down without thinking. Alex grins at him with a quick ‘thanks’, and when Henry turns back to the conversation, Shaan is giving him a look he can’t quite decipher. When Henry raises an eyebrow, he just shrugs and turns back to his tea, letting Alex talk about how he’ll make sure to bring white person tamales if they have a potluck so he doesn’t hurt anyone. 

Shaan laughs at that, and Henry insists it’s important to note because if Alex brings food for his Mexican family none of the rest of them will be able to taste anything for the rest of the day. He’s still arguing in favor of the refined British taste buds, how they’re too heightened to deal with overwhelming American or Mexican flavors, as they load into the minibus. Alex is laughing at him, but it doesn’t matter. It’s better to laugh about their taste buds than to worry about their upcoming showstopper: a batch of dinner rolls, a side, and a main course that work together to be a full meal. It’s something Henry’s been practicing, because he practices all his bakes, but he hasn’t timed himself doing it all. He should be alright, it’s just hard to get that much time, and he’s suddenly wishing he’d made it more of a priority. 

Still, with Alex laughing beside him, threatening to make Henry eat an entire jalapeno, it’s hard to worry too much. There’s something about Alex that makes it hard to be worried. Maybe it’s that he’s so violently himself, so aggressively American and full of light that Henry can’t seem to find a way to be embarrassed about any of his own failings. Maybe it’s that they were never really meant to have a long term friendship if it felt wrong; maybe something about the temporary aspect of their weekend meetups pushed them together. Whatever the case, Alex is nice to be around, and Henry is more glad to have met him than he can ever say. Maybe, next time he’s worried about a deadline or a lighting designer who can’t do their job or something, he’ll just call Alex and he’ll make things feel better. 

That’s a train of thought that’s going to take him somewhere he’s not sure he wants to be, so instead of focusing on it, he thinks about his plans for the showstopper. He’s not worried about the garlic dinner rolls. Those he’s been making since he could sit on the kitchen counter and shape them the way his dad showed him, his hands guiding Henry’s little ones and double checking everything to make sure it was perfect. The main dish is the most concerning; he’s decided on a pizza that he’s worried will be too simple, or just not something the judges want. He’s asked for as many ingredients as he can think of and is hoping to make it the way they like it, half for each of them, but he’s not sure how that will go over, either. It feels scary to try and match exactly what they want, and to try to make a pizza in an oven that is definitely not made for pizzas, and no matter how much Bea’s liked the pizza he’s made her, it still feels dangerously like cooking. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Alex asks as they get onto the bus. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just… I’m making a pizza, and I don’t… We don’t have pizza ovens, obviously, so that’s not a great idea. And I don’t know what I’ll put on it, and I’m worried that it’s more cooking than baking, you know? The crust is baking for sure, but where is that line? When does something become cooking, and do you think they’ll be upset if they think this crosses that line? I mean, they asked for it when the decided this would be our challenge; that’s more on them than it would be on me, right?”

“I mean, I think so,” Alex says.

“But even if it’s right, well, I’m still baking a pizza in a normal oven, and I don’t know if there’s a pizza stone in the tent, so the crust probably won’t be particularly crisp, and that’s the only part of it that’s actually baked, so what happens if I mess up the one part that is a bake?”

“Well, then you’ve got your side and rolls to get you out of the hole. Plus, you did well yesterday, and who doesn’t love homemade pizza? If it all goes to shit, just cover it in garlic and basil and cheese and we’ll love it.”

He seems so confident that Henry can’t help but believe him.Maybe it is all going to go great. Maybe he really is a decent baker, and besides, Alex points out, next week is made for him. He did well yesterday; he just has to not make a complete disaster of his showstopper and he’s through to the week he really wanted to bake for. 

Alex’s words are still echoing in his head as he settles behind his bench, putting the apron on and forcing worries and thoughts about anything but baking out of his mind. For the next few hours, he just has to bake. He has to bake things he’s baked before, over and over. He can do it. 

When the judges come around, they’re not the most open with their pizza preferences, but Henry bothers the others into helping him pick out different flavors for the different judges based on comments they’ve made on past bakes. It’s a group effort, and that alone makes it significantly less tense in the tent, as they all rope the hosts into pestering the judges to see what they say. Noel is all for it, joining the judges in their little tent before reporting back things like that Paul likes meat, stuff they mostly already know but that makes them laugh. He announces loudly that Paul enjoys a nice big sausage, which feels too naughty for the show itself but makes them all laugh. It’s a better atmosphere than any showstopper they’ve had yet; really, it feels more like a technical. It feels like they’re all figuring out a mystery together, and Alex claims he’s going to recruit their help on something next week just so it feels this communal again. 

It’s a good bake, as far as Henry is concerned. He’s gotten a meal that goes well together and that the judges will hopefully like, and the others make him promise to relay exactly what’s said during judging so that they can see how right or wrong their input on toppings was. Alex is upset that they didn’t have chorizo and promises to buy them all a chorizo pizza for dinner next week, and Henry tries not to think about the fact that one of them won’t be there next week. They’re all here now, and that’s what matters. 

When they’re called back in for judging, his pizza suddenly seems woefully inadequate next to everyone else’s bakes. Shaan’s is stunning, Pez’s is the most exciting explosion of fruit he’s ever seen, and it looks like Alex made a soup that smells incredible. They’re all toeing the line between baking and cooking, and it feels good not to be alone in that, but it still feels worrying. But the judging goes on, and Alex doesn’t look too upset on his way back to his bench. Liam looks genuinely happy as he finishes, and Henry gets good feedback. His crust has worked well, and Paul loves the garlic rolls. Given how he’d worried that they weren’t proved, and how much other contestants had worried about their rolls, that in itself is a huge relief. 

They’ve guessed Paul’s favorite pizza almost perfectly, and they’re not far off on Prue’s, so even if he leaves today, Henry’ll feel like he’s won something at least. He’ll get to tell everyone how right they were in the bus home, and maybe they’ll be able to focus on that and not the fact that one of them is going home. Overall, even if he does go home and have to leave everything here, he’s had a showstopper that made everyone happy. He’s helped the others relax, and if that’s his role in the show, he’ll be happy with it.

Still, one of them does have to leave. They settle on the stools at the front of the tent, and as much as Henry’s wondering who got star baker, the fact that this is all over for someone is in the back of his mind. Really, whoever leaves, it’ll change the whole experience for all of them. And it’s been like this every week, but somehow, it feels more pronounced now that the group is smaller and they’ve been missing Amy all weekend. 

Cash gets star baker, to no one’s surprise. He’d made his kids’ favorites, spruced up a bit for the judges but still leaning on what he and his family love, and he always does well when that’s his focus. Then comes the hard part. Alex’s hand is tight on Henry’s, and Henry knows they’re both nervous. 

It’s Zahra. She’d tried to do too much on the showstopper and served something underbaked. Shaan is the first to hug her, but Alex doesn’t seem to pick up on that, instead just going to say how much they’ll miss her. She was a calming presence in the tent to be sure; no matter what was wrong you could look at her and know she would at least look like she knew what she was doing. 

When Henry gets a chance to hug her, he murmurs, “I’m really going to miss you.”

She just rolls her eyes, pulling back a bit to ruffle his hair. “You’re going to do great, kid. Bake something extra special for me next week, alright? I’ll be watching. You’re going to make your family proud.” 

They congratulate Cash on the way back to the bus, and he chalks his win up to the challenge being fit for him, but Nora especially won’t let him brush it off that easily. They’ve all had challenges that seemed like a good fit for them, but not all of them have won star baker on what should have been “their” week. Zahra chips in with how good his food was, and even if they’ll miss her next week or she’s upset about leaving, the mood in the bus is high.

Alex and Henry each call their sisters on their way to the train station, then settle in across from each other naturally. Really, if anything, Henry wants Alex to stay just so they can keep this routine. It was lonely riding the train alone every week, surrounded by strangers or sharing a table with someone who couldn’t understand why he kept tapping his pen or bouncing his leg. With Alex, though, he doesn’t need to worry about any of that. They just fall into an easy conversation, talking about historical bakes for next week and their plans for each. Alex gets him talking about food history, and Henry is halfway through a rant on the impact of immigration patterns on the differences between American and British cuisines starting as early as the 1600s when he realizes Alex is just staring at him, shaking his head slightly.

“What?” he asks, suddenly noticing how far they’ve come, and how long he’s been rambling.

“Nothing. You’re just… really smart. I like listening to you talk. It’s nice.”

“Oh. Thank you. It’s… for work, I need to know a lot of everyday things about history, and food history is a good look into them since food shapes so much of how we live our lives.”

“Still, even if you had to know it for work or whatever, it’s cool that you know so much. If I ever have a question about anything, I’ll make sure to ask you.”

“Please do. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll probably know how to find it.”

“Oh, I’m definitely going to take you up on that.” 

Henry just laughs and lets the subject shift to something that won’t have him ranting for the next hour, and if he hopes Alex is serious about asking him questions, that’s something he’ll keep to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one of those chapters where I did a lot of research, but I don't have personal experience with making tamales or any of the holidays/foods mentioned in the bit about the potluck, so please let me know if I got something wrong, and I'll do what I can to fix it!  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	6. History Week

Over the course of the next week, Alex sends Henry more texts than normal:

 _when was silverware invented?_ (depends on what counts as silverware but a long time ago. Ancient China had chopsticks, Ancient Rome had forks, etc)

 _why are some plants not green?_ (some use substances other than chlorophyll for photosynthesis)

 _can pigs do tricks?_ (depends on the breed, but if trained, yes)

He’s sort of obsessed with badgering Henry. He teases him mercilessly about perfectly punctuated and cited responses, but Henry refuses to change. When he mentions sources, Alex gets back a long, grammatically-correct response about how plagiarism is wrong and he should be able to learn more or to fact check Henry if he wants. He replies with “k”, hoping he’s made Henry roll his eyes.

When Henry sits down across from him on the train, he opens the conversation with, “Why don’t frogs have ribs?”

“Because they sort of just splat when they land, and they’d break them. Can we… I’m sorry, but can we not do questions today?”

“What’s wrong?” Henry looks tired, and there’s a slump to his shoulders that usually isn’t there. The more Alex looks at him, the more he wants to just wrap him up in a blanket and let him nap.

“Nothing in particular, it’s just… a long day, and then my sister got a job offer up in Manchester. And that’s good! It’s where she wants to be; she loves music and it’s a job that would get her connected to the music scene up there and let her join a band and stuff. She should take it, but we’re living together right now, and I keep trying to convince her not to worry about me, but I don’t know if she actually believes I’ll be fine on my own. And…” he sighs, rubbing his forehead a bit. Alex only hesitates for a second before moving his bag and sliding into the seat next to Henry instead of across from him.

“And you’re going to miss her if she moves?” he asks, wrapping an arm around Henry’s shoulders. Henry nods, curling into Alex’s hug a bit. 

“I’m really going to miss her. I don’t want to hold her back, but we’ve sort of just had each other since Dad died, and it’s hard to think she might be going so far away.”

“Well, hey, if you need anything… I know it’s not the same, but I’ll be in London next year. You’ve got me.”

“I know. And it’s not like I’ll be alone, it’s just been sort of a long week at work, and then with Bea getting this job offer, and then trying to figure out bakes on top of it all, it’s been sort of a lot.” He seems less sad now, just tired, and Alex rubs his back a bit as he yawns.

“I get it. But hey, I’m here, and if you want, you could nap now? I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“Thanks. I think I might just take you up on that,” Henry says, yawning again. His head dips onto Alex’s shoulder as he closes his eyes, and a few minutes later, Alex realizes Henry’s fallen asleep on him. His hair tickles the underside of Alex’s jaw, and he makes little sleepy noises when Alex reaches for his laptop, so he gives up, instead shifting to pull out his phone and check his email there. 

He has an interview offer with a firm he’s interested in. He can hardly believe it when he sees the email, and it takes everything in him not to wake Henry up and tell him immediately. He looks so relaxed, now that he’s finally sleeping soundly, and so precious. 

Alex shakes his head, then bookmarks the email to get back to it later. It’s a position in London, so maybe he can come visit Henry for another meal during the week. He texts June about the offer, then settles in to outline an essay on his phone, trying to stay as still as possible so Henry can sleep. When he sees the ticket-taker coming down the line, he carefully fishes Henry’s wallet out of his bag and finds the ticket and railcard easily. Henry just moves a bit closer to him, and Alex smiles, humming a little when the jostling starts to wake him. 

Henry naps for most of the trip, sleeping through Reading and Theale and Sheffield as Alex answers emails and drafts an essay from his phone. He’s grateful he plugged it in before Henry fell asleep. 

They’re nearly to Thatcham when Henry wakes, sitting up with a yawn to rub his eyes before apparently processing what’s happened and turning bright red. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s fine; you were tired. I’m the one who told you to nap.”

“Yes, but--”

“Shush; you have nothing to apologize for. I got an email while you were out, though,” Alex says, moving back to his side of the table with a smile. “I’ve got another interview in London next week, I thought maybe I could try for Friday and we could do dinner together again? It was really fun last time.”

“Sure. And depending on when it is, I might be able to take a half day on Friday if you want. I don’t know how much of the city you’ve seen, but we could go to a museum or something if you want.”

“I’d like that. I’ve been to the British Museum, but I know there are others there.”

“What about the V&A? Have you been there?” Henry asks, and Alex shakes his head.

“I’ll shoot for an early afternoon interview and meet you there after?” he offers, and Henry grins. Alex pulls up his laptop and shoots off an email to the firm, then asks, “You really think you’ll be okay getting off early? I mean, I can go to the V&A on my own too, but it won’t be as much fun without you.”

“I should be able to. It’s… this week was hectic, but it’s because I started on a new show. Next week they’ll be figuring out blocking, so I won’t have to be there for rehearsals as much.”

Alex hums like he knows what that means as they pull into the Newbury station, and they gather their things and go find their driver. In the car, Alex asks casually about Henry’s favorite parts of the V&A, and Henry lights up. For the rest of the drive, Alex gets to hear about marble sculptures and fashion history. But, more than that, he gets to watch Henry talk about those things, his whole face lighting up as he explains the way the V&A’s display of their statuary helps emphasize its beauty, talks about their collections and how some of the pieces aren’t even stolen, but were gifted. He goes on a tangent about a statue of Samson, and Alex can’t follow it all, but there’s something about seeing him so fired up that makes Alex’s insides feel warm. 

He tells himself it’s the same feeling he’d have about any of his friends’ passions. 

He tells himself it’s normal. 

As they part for the night, going into their respective rooms with wishes for good sleep and a peaceful night, Alex is more excited to see a museum than he’s ever been. 

He finds Henry and Shaan in the lobby the next morning, an extra cup steaming between them and a chair already there. He joins them with a smile, letting the coffee start to work its magic as he listens to the two of them talk about museums. He can’t follow all of their conversation; there’s lots of stuff about preservation and repatriation that seem specific to the field, but he’s happy to just listen to Henry be passionate and smart. 

Because Henry is so incredibly passionate and smart, and Alex absolutely can’t wait to watch him crush it in the tent today.

Their signature bake is scones, and Alex figures Henry will be making ones for himself and his sister. He’s apparently guessed correctly, because when he asks, Henry is full of stories about shared breakfasts in their little London flat, and even at home before they moved in together, finding little moments for breakfast when it felt like their family was starting to fall apart. It’s a different passion than the one before, something more personal and quiet, but Alex savors it right along with his coffee, listening to Henry talk about how Bea couldn’t sleep as well after their dad passed, so she’d make breakfast and they’d eat it together when he inevitably got up too early, too. 

He’s much more connected to the scones than Alex is, but he still listens when Alex talks about how he’d made horchata scones for him and June and it had felt like home after they moved. He’s still talking about his abuela’s horchata as they make their way to the tent, and he barely has time to worry about the fact that his personal history with the scones themselves is relatively brief before they start baking. 

He does get to explain it to the judges, and they’re happy to talk about childhoods spent chugging horchata and the way his abuela used to always have it for them when they got home from school or spent time with her in the summer. Then he talks about aguas frescas, and how he can’t find tamarind anywhere in the UK but absolutely loves it, so he had his dad mail him some for the competition. The judges aren’t particularly familiar with anything he’s doing, but that’s not exactly uncommon, so they wish him luck and move to the next bench. 

It’s a good bake overall, though he’s constantly having to remind himself that the judges don't have the robust taste buds of someone raised on his dad’s cooking. He hopes it turns out alright as they finish up, then turns around to see Henry’s scones, two dozen perfect circles beautifully displayed, and when he looks more closely, the orange ones have glaze in the shape of guitar picks. He’s smiling as they leave the tent, half listening to Pez talk about how he’d tried to make his scones more interesting and had used pea flower to turn them blue. He’s worried the judges won’t like it, but Cash thinks they look fun and plans to try it with his kids sometime, so at least there’s that. 

Henry seems a bit subdued, so Alex makes sure to sit next to him. He rests his head on Alex’s shoulder without a word. Alex’s hand comes up to run through Henry’s hair, and it’s soft as Henry sighs. 

“I did it. I almost ran out of time, but I did it.”

“They looked great; I could never have told you were stressed,” Alex says, and Henry relaxes with a bit of a smile up at him.

“Yours looked good, too. I overheard a bit of what you told the judges; I’m looking forward to trying them.”

Alex grins, thanking him as they go back to listening to the other contestants talk. He doesn’t realize his hand is still in Henry’s hair, gently twisting the soft strands between his fingers, until Henry has to get up for an interview. Maybe he’ll have time to process what exactly that means by the time they have to go back into the tent for judging. 

As they go back in, Alex finally decides that it just felt nice to touch something soft. He does a lot of work on his computer, and he does a lot of baking, but nothing just lets him turn his brain off and touch soft things. Maybe, if he had a dog or something, he wouldn’t be so tempted to touch Henry’s hair. If he was used to being able to relax and play with something so soft and nice, then he would be able to stop thinking about how Henry’s hair felt against his chin yesterday, or between his fingers as they relaxed. He’s just not used to touching soft things. It’s fine, and normal, and not at all weird that he really wants to play with Henry’s hair more and maybe never stop playing with it.

He’s able to get Henry’s hair out of his head enough to talk to Paul and Prue during judging, and they seem to like his scones well enough, which feels good. 

Henry is behind him, and Alex turns to watch his judging with a grin as he sees Paul hold out a hand. He gives Henry a thumbs up as they leave, and Henry grins at him, the sort of relieved, happy smile Alex has learned to love from him. It stays there during interviews, and Alex watches it stay fixed in place as Henry texts Bea about what’s happened. 

“Hey, if we do the V&A on Friday, would you want Bea there? For part or all of it?” he asks as they go inside for lunch. Henry looks surprised, so Alex adds, “You two are close, and you really like her, so I figure maybe I should meet her, too.”

“I can definitely see if she wants to do dinner with us,” Henry says, nodding. “I think you’ll like her, I really do. And I’m not just saying that; you two have a lot in common.”

“I’d like that,” Alex says, grinning. “And hey, if we connect, she’ll have someone to talk to at the picnic while you’re in the tent baking.”

“What, you don’t think you’ll be there, too?”

“Nah. French week’s coming up soon; I’m out of here then,” Alex says, and he’s surprised to find a bit of a lump in his throat. It’s something he’s known for a while, but it feels hard to say it aloud somehow.

“I don’t think so, not necessarily. It’s all a toss up, you know that as well as I do. And hey, if we need to, I’ll push a Napoleon on the floor for you.”

That makes Alex laugh, and Pez joins them to reinforce the no-bake-talk-at-meals rule, which lets the conversation drift. Alex is overwhelmingly glad for it. 

It’s a nice lunch, but they’re headed back to the tent too soon, finding spots behind benches and trying to prepare for whatever is hiding under the gingham shrouds in front of them. Paul and Prue leave, and a sort of quiet, tense calm spreads over the tent. Noel and Sandi are talking about cheesecake, and then they announce a sambocade. 

Behind him, Alex hears Henry gasp a little. He turns to look, and Henry has a happily surprised look on his face. As soon as they get the chance, Alex turns with a question.

“I’ve made this,” Henry says. “I… it’s something I made not too long ago because I wanted to make cheese.”

“Well, I know who to go to when I’m panicking,” Alex says with a grin. Henry nods, then turns to his bake, and Alex realizes Henry might be humming. 

As he starts measuring things out and trying to puzzle through the recipe, it sinks in just how incredible Henry knowing this bake is. It’s complex, and the judges had said it’s from Medieval England. There’s no reason anyone should know it, or be familiar with it, but Henry clearly does and is. Alex knew he was smart, knew he’d crush history week, but something about knowing exactly what a technical is and how to do it in week six feels mind-bogglingly smart. 

He finds himself glancing back when he gets stuck, and Henry is moving with absolute confidence, doing things like separating eggs and squeezing cheese with such quiet confidence that it takes everything in Alex not to just stop and watch him do it. He’s so used to stressful technicals, but there’s something absolutely mesmerizing about watching Henry have a relaxed one.

It’s just because he’s so relaxed and confident, and Alex is in so far over his head. That’s the only reason Alex wants to watch Henry bake.

They call time eventually, and Alex steps back to look at his cake. It’s not bad. Not particularly pretty, but it’s baked through and looks decent. It’s tall, which feels good, because he’d worried he’d knocked the air out of his egg whites. He sets it down behind his picture. It’s next to Pez’s, which looks a bit short, but Henry’s is on the other side, and it looks gorgeous. Cash’s has deflated, but Nora’s and Shaan’s look great, too, so Alex knows he can’t rest easy. Still, he looks at Henry’s, and whatever happens, he’s glad he got to watch Henry make it. 

They settle on the stools at the front of the tent, Cash on Alex’s left and Henry on his right. At this point, he’s not sure who initiates holding hands, but it’s the most natural thing in the world to squeeze Henry’s hand as the judges talk about cakes in front of them, going from one to the other and deliberating between them. 

When Henry comes first, Alex isn’t a bit surprised. He is surprised, though, that he comes in third, and disappointed when Pez is last, but Pez doesn’t seem to mind. He just laughs about how it’s far too precise and simple for him anyway, and how he’s never particularly liked cheesecake. In the bus on the way back, Alex asks Henry a question about medieval cheesecake that gets him started on a long explanation that involves the crusades and French women and the reason New York style cheesecake is so different, and Alex just leans back to watch him talk and admire him. This feels like another of those things June would say something about, but Alex can’t bring himself to care. It’s been a long, tiring day, and now he gets to just sit back and listen to Henry talk about cheesecake, and he’s going to enjoy every bit of it. 

They’ve gotten rooms next to each other the past few weeks, apparently since they’ve been coming in together, so Henry’s cheesecake history lesson carries them all the way to their rooms. Alex tries not to over-analyse the fact that he’s just listened to Henry talk about cheesecake history for twenty minutes as he showers, and he definitely doesn’t mention it when he calls June. He’s just wrapping up with her when there’s a knock at his door.

“Dinner in five,” Pez calls, loud enough to be heard through Alex’s and Henry’s doors. “Don’t be naked.” 

The shower shuts off in the room over as Alex wonders briefly if there are any other hotel guests who heard him. He just wraps up with June, and he meets Henry in the hallway, hair still damp from the shower.

“Look at you, clothes on and everything,” Alex says, smirking. Henry huffs.

“Yes, well, he does have to take me to dinner first.”

Alex snorts at him as they go downstairs, arriving just as Nora leads the way out. She’s holding a high heel that might somehow be Zahra’s aloft like a tour guide’s flag as she leads them to a nearby restaurant.

All the contestants can fit in a single booth now, and that feels strange. Shaan had a fundraiser during the week, so they get to ask him about it and hear about how it went while they eat. As he talks, Alex is hit with a realization of just how close they’ve all gotten. He knows things about these people’s lives now, knows what to ask them and even knows what they’ll order the moment he gets the menu. He suddenly can’t wait for June to meet them all at the picnic, to see this part of his life and these people he loves. As they go back to the hotel for the night, all seven of them in a pack, he can’t imagine a better six people to bake with the next day.

Their next day consists of a spanakopita, a Greek spinach pie that dates back to the fifth century BC and is topped with phyllo dough that Alex already knows is going to kick his ass. He finds Henry and Shaan talking about it over breakfast that morning, and that’s how he learns about Philoxenos and his honey and cheese recipe that Henry’s planning on mimicking, and Alex plays another game of nod-along-and-finish-waking-up while Henry and Shaan go back and forth about ancient Greek culture and art. Henry apparently knows a lot about that, probably because he knows a lot about everything, so he and Shaan talk about something called the Parthenon Marbles and the Acropolis Museum while Alex tries to absorb some of their brain cells for the showstopper today. 

Henry asks him about his plans as they load into the minibus, and if they’re the only ones sharing a seat, Alex pretends not to notice. He just talks about his plan for a classic spinach pie, how he’d never heard of this before and hadn’t had much time to experiment but is hoping this turns out alright. Still, Henry’s eyes were gleaming over breakfast, so Alex digs around in his subconscious until he finds a question that seems smart, something about the Parthenon Marbles and why they mattered, and Henry perks up again.

“Oh! Well, they’re pieces of sculpture from the Parthenon that are in the British Museum. Everyone sort of agrees that they were stolen, as far as I can tell, except from the Museum itself. They say that they’re looking out for them better than Greece could, so Greece built this stunning museum; it’s state of the art and absolutely gorgeous…”

He’s still talking, but as much as he likes seeing Henry excited, it’s too early for Alex to follow it all. He gets the gist as Henry rambles, and if nothing else, it’s more fun to watch him talk than it is to worry that his pie is too simple. And if Henry talks until they’re unloading and Alex only gets to worry during the walk from the bus to the tent, well, all the better. Henry reassures him that he’ll be fine as they settle behind their benches, and then they’re baking, kneading dough and setting it aside as they prep their fillings. 

The really hard part doesn’t come until a few hours in, and that’s when Alex unveils his secret weapon: a big square tortilleria. He sees the others rolling, but he resorts to pulling his dough into the press a bit at a time. It’s a delicate thing, not getting too much or too little, but it’s what he’s practiced this week, and it goes off like a charm. From there, it’s a quick process to roll it out once, just to make sure it’s all the same thickness, and as he does, he feels eyes on him and turns to see Henry with his jaw dropped, grinning a bit.

“That’s… what is that press?”

“It’s for tortillas. Want to try?” Alex asks, and Henry nods, coming to press a bit of phyllo. “It took up a ton of space in my carry on last time, but it was absolutely worth it.”

“It seems like it; I’ll have to try and get my hands on one.”

“I could see about having my dad bring one over for you when he comes for the picnic; he’s got a friend who makes them. He made this for me.”

“I’d like that,” Henry says, grinning. Alex agrees, making a mental note to call his dad on the way home. This’ll mean telling his dad about Henry, but, well. He’s sure his dad won’t say anything in particular.

From the rolling out portion, it’s down to the layering and scoring and the bake, and Alex is left to wander around the tent offering to help other people while he tries not to worry about his own dish. It’ll be fine he’s sure. It’s traditional, but this is history week. Surely they can’t fault him for making something historically normal. 

It comes out a perfect golden brown on top, and he has a minute to figure out how to present it, and it feels like the heavens have opened and Apollo himself has come to shine on Alex. That might just be because Henry is helping him get the pieces set out just so (and nibbling on the bits that have fallen off, congratulating Alex as he does), but that’s neither here nor there. 

Everyone is exhausted as they go to their break, and Alex just slumps onto the couch between Henry and Nora, Pez coming to join their pile a second later. Pez sounds worried, but Nora seems to be dealing with that well enough, so Alex just thanks Henry for his last minute help and lets his brain shut itself off for a bit as his head sinks onto Henry’s shoulder in a mirror of their position yesterday. 

His bake is still there as they come back in, and Alex is relieved all over again to realize that the perfect golden brown on top, flaky and crisp, wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He has a good judging, but it seems like most of them have good judgings. Henry’s is perfect, of course, and Pez gets dinged a bit because his decorative scoring wouldn’t let enough steam escape and left him with a slightly soggy top crust. Still, it’s all in all a good day, and as they settle on the stools at the front of the tent, Alex prays to whatever god gave him a perfect top crust that he won’t be sent home today. One more week is all he needs; he’s ready to go home next week but please, not this one.

Henry gets star baker, and Alex pulls him in to a big hug, grinning and cheering as Shaan pats him on the back. But then comes the awful bit, the bit where Alex’s grip on Henry’s hand tightens so much he can see Henry’s fingers changing color.

This time, it’s Pez. Alex lets his hand drop and goes to hug Pez, who seems alright. He reassures Alex that he knew it was coming, but it still feels strange to do their wrap-up interviews and load onto the bus knowing that the next time they’re here, Pez won’t be with them. Still, as they get onto the bus, Pez lets his jacket shift a bit to show Alex a wooden spoon, a bowl, and his apron all hidden underneath it. That makes him laugh, and Pez keeps their spirits up on the way back to the station, promising that he’ll be cheering them all on and making them promise to send him updates. 

Alex and Henry both call their sisters on the way to the train station, and then Alex calls his dad and talks about how Henry wants a tortilla press, and yes he’s doing well, he’s on to the next round and the press he’d used worked perfectly. Oscar talks about a case he’s on for a bit, getting Alex’s advice, and when he hangs up Henry’s looking at him with a bit of a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just… he seems like a good dad. You’re lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, I… I really am.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence before Henry says, “Bea thinks joining us for dinner would be fun on Friday, so just let us know if there’s any food in particular you want to try.”

“I’ll go wherever y’all like,” Alex says, grinning. “I can’t wait to meet her. What did you say she does?”

“She’s in marketing right now, but she really wants to do music,” Henry says. “You should hear her play guitar sometime; she’s so good.” Alex isn’t quite sure what questions to ask after that, but Henry helps him keep the conversation going, and Alex learns about how Henry’s dad used to play guitar for them, how he has fond memories of guitar concerts when Bea was just learning and how their dad would always treat her like she was the best musician he’d ever seen. 

“It sounds like he was a good dad, too,” Alex says eventually, hoping a second later that Henry realizes he’s referencing their earlier conversation. Henry just nods.

“He was a good dad. He was a really, really good dad. I… my family’s not exactly perfect, but he was, and my mom and Bea are. I’ve got an older brother who’s not the closest to us, but it’s alright.”

“Yeah, I mean, my mom moved across an ocean when she and my dad split up, so I get weird family stuff. It’s hard, and it… it doesn’t work sometimes, but I feel like we find new ways to make it work when it breaks.”

“That’s a nice thought,” Henry agrees. Then the drinks cart comes to interrupt them, and Alex is left wondering where the hell the conversation would have gone otherwise.

He’s still thinking about it when Henry gets off the train, wondering if there’s anything he can do to help Henry feel like his dad is proud of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to clarify that I have no idea if a tortilla press would actually help you with phyllo, but like... in my head, it seems like it would.  
> Also, the British Museum should return the Parthenon Marbles, because the Acropolis museum is _incredible_ and also probably wouldn't seriously damage them as part of a lousy cleaning attempt.  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	7. French Week

Henry gets to the V&A early, and he’s waiting on a bench outside when Alex comes up, his suit jacket off and a smile on his face. 

“Hey, you.”

“How was the interview?” Henry asks, and Alex grins.

“It was good. I’ll hear for sure by Monday, but I think they’re going to offer me a job. So then it’s just… I don’t know, looking for a place to stay here if someone will let me sublet or something, then finding something more permanent.”

“You’ll take it, then? If they offer you a job?”

“Oh, for sure. They’re working with refugees and immigration, and I’d really like to help other people with that process, since I’ve been through it.”

“Well, hey, I mean, if Bea does move up to Manchester, I’ll have an extra room in my apartment,” Henry says, trying to act like his heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest. The very idea of having Alex move in with him feels laughable, but Alex is nodding, smiling a bit.

“I’d like that, if it works out. I mean, it wouldn’t have to be forever, but for the summer at least, just so I can work and find a new place.”

“Of course. But if it works out and we want to--”

“Oh for sure. I… if we work well as roommates, I’d really like that, too.”

They’re in the museum now, and Henry picks up a map, though he knows he doesn’t particularly need it. It’s still nice to see what’s on, and he can let Alex look through the exhibits while he tries to process how exactly he’d feel about Alex moving in with him. It’s not a question of if he wants to; he really, really wants Alex to move in with him. It’s more a question of how, and what exactly it would look like, and if Henry would be able to be a functional human if he spent extended amounts of time with Alex. 

“Hey, this dance thing looks like something you’d be into, have you seen it yet? We could start there, then you could maybe show me some of your favorite parts? I’m awful at telling how cool an exhibit is from a map, so I’ll just trust you.”

“Alright. The dance exhibit does look interesting; we’ll start there.” Alex leads the way in, and Henry follows behind him into a dim room full of old costumes and photos. Henry knows some of the ballets the pieces were for, so he explains them to Alex as best he can, trying not to bother any of the other visitors as he talks about Swan Lake or Carmen. At one point, Henry pulls his eyes away from the red dress in front of him to see if Alex needs any clarification on things, and Alex is looking at him, an awed look on his face. 

“What is it? Is everything alright?” Henry asks. “Do you need me to repeat anything?”

“No, it’s just… you’re really smart. Like really, really smart.”

“This is just my field,” Henry says, hoping the dim light hides the heat creeping up his cheeks. “I have to know this kind of thing for work.”

“Still, it’s cool. Thanks for explaining it all; I’d be totally lost without you here.”

“No problem. They have a whole theater collection if you want to see more of this sort of thing, or they have exhibits from all over the world, so you can just pick a place and we’ll go look.”

“What do you like? I’m serious; I’ll look at anything. But you seemed really excited about some marble sculptures last week, so maybe those?” 

Henry finds himself hoping once again that the darkness of the room hides his blush. “Sure, we can go to the Renaissance room. Want to stop in China and Japan on our way there?”

“Lead on; I’ll take whatever route you want,” Alex says. “You know what’s good.”

So Henry does lead on, through centuries of history, winding them through South Asia and the Islamic Middle East, through China and Japan and a room of Buddhist art before finally leading Alex into the Renaissance room. He lets Alex take it in, trying not to be too obvious about watching his face as he looks around, trying to steel himself in case Alex decides that he hates it, or it’s not his thing, or he’d rather go somewhere else. But Alex just looks at him with the biggest grin on his face and says, “Tell me.”

So Henry leads the way between statues, talking about the myths that inspired them and the things he loves. At some point, his hand finds Alex’s, and he tugs Alex along between marble giants. There’s Narcissus, and Zephyr, and one of Samson that Henry’s always loved. Alex leans close as Henry explains the love story of George Villers and James the I and VI, how this statue was a gift to James’s son. He has to fight to keep his voice down; he doesn’t want to bother any of the other visitors but it’s a sculpture and a story he’s always loved, for the statue’s lifelike carving and James’s boldness in front of the church and the world. When he looks over to see if Alex understands, he’s giving him that look again. It’s the same look he gave him when Henry knew what a sambocade was last weekend, and this time, the room is brightly lit enough that he knows Alex can see his ears turning red.

“I can see why you like it so much,” is all Alex says, turning back to the statue with a bit of a sheepish smile. “I mean, it’s so lifelike, it almost looks warm. I probably can’t touch it, but like… it seems like it would be warm if I did. It’s incredible.”

He takes a lap around the statue, studying it from every angle, and there’s a warmth in Henry’s chest that has nothing to do with his earlier embarrassment. Watching Alex admire something he loves so much does something to his gut that he’s not sure he wants to name, but when Bea finds them there a few minutes later, she gives him a look that seems far too knowing. 

Alex actually bumps into her as he rounds the statue, still looking at it in awe. Bea catches him to keep him from falling, and Alex just laughs. 

“Henry said we might run into you here. I’m Alex; I’ve heard so many good things about you.”

“He talks me up too much,” she says, though she’s clearly not upset about it. “I’m Bea; and I’ve heard nothing but good about you. Thank you for keeping him company on the train; now I can actually do things on Friday nights without constantly texting my little brother.”

“Oi; I sent you three texts. Three.”

“More like three dozen,” Bea mutters, and Alex grins.

“Yeah, well, he buys me coffee. I couldn’t say no to that.”

They go to a spot Bea likes for dinner, and when Alex casually mentions his new presumed job offer, she tells him that if she takes the one in Manchester there will be an open bedroom in Henry’s apartment. Henry kicks her under the table, but Alex is already agreeing that it would be fun to live with Henry and asking about any of his weird habits or quirks. Bea complains about how he leaves dishes in the sink after he practices, and Henry protests that that’s just a Bake Off problem while Alex admits to doing the same thing, annoying his housemates to no end. And it’s fun. Alex and Bea do get along, like Henry knew they would, and it’s fun to have all three of them together. 

As they board the train for Welford Park and the Bake Off tent, Alex thanks him for a good afternoon. He seems more worried than normal, so Henry doesn’t talk about the bakes, instead just asks about Alex’s classes and the firm he’ll be working for, letting that carry them to their hotel rooms for the night.

The next morning, he and Shaan are in the middle of a conversation about the V&A’s dance exhibit when Alex comes to join them, and he chips in now, talking about how helpful Henry was in explaining things. Shaan has questions for them both about what they’d want to know about the pieces, taking a few notes in his phone for an upcoming costume exhibit in his museum. Alex seems happy to help, and it’s fun to watch him engage with the museum the way Henry has since moving to London. As they’re loading on the bus, Alex turns to him to ask, “Did that all make sense? You two always seem like you know what you’re talking about in the mornings, and I feel like I’m never quite sure what I’m saying.”

“It did make sense. I think it helps him to know what someone who’s not quite as invested in museums thinks of things,” Henry says. “I mean, I’ll go to the V&A over and over and read the labels and things, but I think it helps to know what someone who has a more casual relationship to it thinks or might get from it.”

“Good,” Alex says, grinning. “I did really have a good time yesterday, you know. You were a good guide.”

“I’m glad.” There’s a moment of quiet, then Henry asks, “Do you feel ready for today?”

Alex lets out a bit of a laugh, and Henry almost regrets asking. “I guess. I mean, I… this is the week that’s going to send me home, probably. It was going to be bread week or this week, and I made it through bread somehow, so…”

“Hey, don’t say stuff like that.”

“No, I’m serious. We don’t bake French stuff back home. It’s not… I mean, here you have it some, and it’s something a lot of people know about, but at home it’s like the big bad hard kind of food. So like… it’s fine. I’m just not planning on doing particularly well this week, and I’ll probably go home. But that’s not… it doesn’t have to mean we can’t still be friends or anything. At least, I sure hope it doesn’t.”

“Of course not. I just… if you do go, I’ll miss you, is all.”

Alex takes a drink of his coffee, but the ear closest to Henry is red enough that Henry can tell even against Alex’s darker skin. 

The bus gets to the tent and they go in, settling behind their benches and trying to get ready for the finicky weekend coming up. Their first challenge is a flaugnard, something Henry’s done alright with in the past. He’s struggled some with the consistency, but he feels decent about it overall. He’s playing with a few ways to blend different French dishes with the classic flagnard, which means on top of baking a fruit pastry he’s also candying orange peels and tempering chocolate and doing all sorts of things. The judges think it’s a lot but that he can do it, which feels good, and he just hopes Alex is getting on well enough. Every time he gets a chance to glance over, Alex seems busy and at least somewhat confident, and Henry just has to hope that’s enough to keep him here. 

He’s just finishing as the judges call time, and he looks over to see Alex all but deflate. He doesn’t look upset, just tired, and Henry moves to hug him automatically.

“You did it. We’re done,” he says, and Alex nods, relaxing a bit more with a sigh.

“I… I think it’s alright,” he says as they leave the tent. “I just hope it’s decent. I mean, I know decent might not be good enough to keep me here, and I know the technical is going to be a mess, but I’d like to have at least one thing be edible today.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” Henry says, but when Alex just shrugs, Henry doesn’t push him. Instead, he just lets Alex lean against him and lets the rest of the contestants’ conversation drift around them as he tries to plan for whatever the judging might bring.

Alex seems — if not happy, at least somewhat resigned as they get up and file back into the tent for judging, and Henry can’t quite see his dish, but he’s close enough to hear how it goes. The judges aren’t thrilled, but they aren’t disgusted by any means. And, as they get to Cash next, Henry has the fleeting thought that Alex isn’t the only baker probably unfamiliar with the more finicky aspects of French baking. He feels bad for considering it, but it wedges itself in his mind next to the quiet hope that Alex has a shot.

His own judging goes decently, and then it’s time to eat lunch and pretend none of them are thinking about the technical. It’s quieter than normal at the table, but they hear about Cash’s daughter’s birthday and the trip Liam’s planning with his boyfriend’s family for the summer. Nora’s got a story that has them all in stitches as she vents about a coworker, but all too soon, they’re going back in for the technical. No one is looking forward to it, and Henry can see Alex fidgeting at his bench as they say goodbye to the judges and hear the basics of what they’re making.

But as the announcement progresses, Alex stills. When they get the go ahead, he skims the recipe and his whole demeanor shifts. 

“What’s got you so excited?” Henry asks, and when Alex turns, his eyes are shining. Henry hasn’t seen him look this happy all weekend.

“It’s… this is just flan. I mean, they can call it ‘creme au caramel’ or whatever, but it’s flan! I’ve done this. I… I might have a chance to stay.”

“That’s… I mean, I fully intend to cheat off you now, so that’s wonderful,” Henry says, grinning. 

Alex rolls his eyes and gets started, seeming happier than he has all day. It’s a complex dish, which they’d known to expect, but he seems decently confident. Henry’s mostly focused on his own bake, on making sure to avoid scrambled eggs and burnt caramel, but it feels easier knowing that Alex isn’t as scared as he had been. Besides, it doesn’t hurt that when he’s wondering about what to put in his water bath, he can glance over to see steam rising from Alex’s and go with hot water. Then there’s the bake itself, a twenty minute period that should be a time to relax, but when Henry can’t stop staring into the oven, it’s hard to do anything but worry. And, finally, it’s the moment of truth. He’s taking things out carefully, hoping he didn’t get water in the dish, hoping he didn’t make any big mistakes. 

The first one comes out fine. And so does the second. Each one drops out of the ramekin and stays up, wobbling just a bit, and Henry could cry. He looks over to see Alex doing the same as they get the one-minute warning, but a look back at Cash reveals three of them still in ramekins, next to three mushy dishes. Shaan is there telling him to just leave them in if he thinks they’ll fall, reassuring him that it’ll taste decent and there are two other components as Noel calls time. 

Alex’s eyes are wide when they meet Henry’s, and Henry just exhales, relaxing for the first time since they started the technical as they file out of the tent. He and Alex gravitate to the same wicker bench they always sit on, and this time Cash joins them, and instead of Alex being reassured, he’s the one turning to reassure Cash, talking about how hard of a dish it is and how he would have been completely lost if his family hadn’t taught him to make flan. Henry’s not sure how much it’s helping, but Cash seems a bit happier at least, and Henry’s suddenly really proud of Alex. 

There are a million different ways that could have gone, but even with all his nerves, Alex is helping other people. 

They go back in for judging and settle on the stools, and Alex makes sure to be next to Cash, taking one of his hands and holding Henry’s with the other. The judges aren’t thrilled with the texture of Cash’s, but they like the flavor. Henry’s doesn’t make them particularly happy, either, but he’s not exactly worried this week. Something could always go wrong, of course, but he has a decent idea of what he’s doing. Alex is the one to worry about, but when the judges are impressed with his, Henry feels him relax. He gives his hand a little squeeze, and Alex spares him a shaky grin. Then comes the official judgement.

Cash comes in last, but he just nods, seemingly prepared for it. Henry comes fourth, and when Alex comes second, he gives Henry the same shaky smile he’d had for their positive comments. 

Alex is clearly still worried, but there’s the start of a hopeful look there, and it warms Henry’s heart. 

Henry moves away from Alex to congratulate Shaan on coming first, but still slides in next to Alex on the bus. They’re all tired, and the bus ride back to the hotel might be the quietest one they’ve had yet. It feels strange to walk back to their rooms and shower and change with how quiet it’s been, and as he’s hanging up with Bea, Henry realizes he’s waiting for Pez to come invite him to dinner. Suddenly the quietness of the day makes sense, solidifying into a slight ache in Henry’s gut. After a few minutes wondering what to do, he texts Nora to see if she knows a place, and together, they gather the other bakers for a meal at the same restaurant Pez had taken them to that first night ages ago. Then, they’d filled a big corner booth; now they just need a table. It feels so empty, but then Cash gets them talking, and it becomes not a quiet bummer of a meal, just a fun small dinner with friends. Still, Henry takes a moment to dread the next week.

The next morning, Henry gets to congratulate Shaan on his bakes yesterday without worrying about Cash overhearing. Shaan is proud of his work, but he talks about it with the same clean professionalism that Henry’s come to expect from him. When Alex joins them, Henry can celebrate his second place finish in the technical, and Alex just shakes his head with a smile, talking about how lucky he was that he knew it and how he would have been a disaster with any other French dish. 

There’s an empty seat on the bus when Alex slides in next to Henry, but Henry doesn’t mind. They’re both nervous, but Henry carefully asks about Alex’s plans for the Napoleons they have to make, and Alex talks about the apple cinnamon one he’s thinking of, and it sounds good. It sounds really, really good, the kind of thing that will blow Henry’s classic out of the water, but Alex just talks about how good Henry’s will be. Henry hopes he’s right. 

Henry’s worried as they settle behind their benches, but it’s a familiar knot of worry that lives between his shoulder blades while he’s in the tent. It’s hot out, and only getting hotter, and he’s got to make puff pastry, which means keeping the dough and butter cold. He’s committed to a full puff, which is probably too much in this heat, but once he’s rolled out his first block of dough he’s locked in. He seriously considers just leaning into the fridge to roll it out on a shelf, but that seems like a step too far, so he sweats and rolls it out as thin as he can, folding and folding until he’s out of time for folds and has to bake.

He takes a second after he’s put them in the oven to look around and see how the others seem to be doing: Alex has a smear of flour on his forehead, but he seems put together enough. Liam doesn’t seem too worried, nor does Nora, and Henry can’t see the others. As he starts on his glaze, he just hopes Cash is doing alright, making something that would make his husband and kids proud. 

Everything goes too fast, but it always feels like things go too fast. Henry is just starting to assemble, layering pastry cream with strips of pastry, when the hosts call thirty minutes. From there, it’s a mad rush of piping chocolate and cutting fruit until the hosts call time, and Henry steps back from his dessert with a nod. 

He looks over to Alex, who gives him the same shaky, afraid/hopeful smile he’s been giving him all weekend. From there, he looks around the rest of the tent, seeing Napoleons standing tall and proud at the end of every bench. Henry takes a picture and wipes the flour off Alex’s forehead as they leave the tent, and Alex laughs at the way it had smeared from the back of his hand. That laugh alone makes everything feel loads better than it had when they walked into the tent at the start of the weekend. 

“Hey, you did it. We’re done with French week,” Henry says, and Alex laughs.

“Thank god. France can fuck off. Napoleon too; what did he ever do? Go to Russia? What’s even in Russia?”

“Snow. He brought back some marble from that trip, I suppose. And probably pneumonia,” Henry says, and Alex just stares at him for a second before laughing, settling down beside him.

“How do you know everything?”

“I don’t know everything; it’s just my job to answer questions,” Henry says. Alex rolls his eyes and asks how the others did, though he stays seated close to Henry, their knees pressed together on the couch.

Cash seems happy enough with his bake, too, and in their little wicker oasis, they can pretend that they all get to come back and keep baking and having fun together next week. Henry looks around, trying to come to terms with the fact that one of them won’t be here next week, and he hates even thinking about it.

The wicker oasis disappears as they’re called back into the tent for judging, and Alex gives Henry’s hand a last squeeze as they go back to their benches. Henry smiles at him, rolling his shoulders a bit to try and get the knot out as Shaan carries his dish up to the judges. They’re thrilled with his work, and Henry wouldn’t be surprised if he gets star baker this week. Then Liam brings his for them to try, then Nora and Alex and Henry join the parade. Cash is last, and though the judges seem happy, they’re not quite as thrilled with his Napoleon as they’d seemed with some of the others. Still, he’s smiling as he goes back to his place, and as they gather on the stools, he seems ready for whatever’s coming. 

Shaan gets star baker, and he accepts it with the same small smile and quiet confidence that he seems to face everything with. Then comes the hard part, and when the judges announce that Cash is being sent home, Alex is the first to lean over and hug him tight. He hugs back, promising that he’s alright, that he’ll be glad for the extra time with his family and that he’ll be rooting for each and every one of them. Even on the bus home, he tells them that his husband’s told him he’s glad to have more time together, and it doesn’t feel as bad as it could to lose him. 

Still, on the train once they’ve finished talking to their sisters, Alex is uncharacteristically quiet. When Henry finally asks if he’s okay, Alex just sighs.

“It should have been me this week. I… if it wasn’t for that flan technical, it would have been. I just — I’m really glad I get to come back. I’m glad I get to spend more time with you all, and that we get more of these train rides and more early mornings and weekends together. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, and I don’t want it to end, and it almost did this week, so I just… it feels weird. I guess I’ll need to buy a train ticket for next week.”

He finishes on a sort-of breathy laugh, and Henry tries to convince himself that the final ‘you’ was a plural one. Alex can’t just be glad to know him; he means the group as a whole. But he thinks of their looks in the tent, their hands clasped at every stressful moment and their eyes meeting between benches, and for a quiet second, he lets himself think he’s the one Alex doesn’t want to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not to be a weird history nerd on main (let's be real though), but the US really doesn't have that much French influence in our cooking because we didn't have people immigrate here from France in waves! We had a lot of immigrants from China, Italy, Germany, Holland, Ireland, Sweden, and Finland (who settled sort of in different areas of the US, which is in itself fascinating), but in general, most of our French influence is limited to New Orleans, and it's not particularly widespread. In our cooking, that essentially means we have a lot of Chinese/Asian influence (the history of Chinese restaurants in the US is FASCINATING), a good number of Italian staples, and a decent amount of staples from Germany, but like... French food is seen as this impossible fancy cuisine that you only buy in restaurants/stores.   
> Hence Alex being convinced he'd leave during French week.  
> \--  
> Also, because I'm in this far, when Henry says Napoleon brought back some marble from his invasion of Russia? That marble became the Waterloo Vase.  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	8. Tray Bakes

On Monday, Alex gets a call from the law firm he’d interviewed with. They want to offer him a job, and from there on, his next hour is full of phone calls. He calls June to tell her, and his parents, and then he’s calling Henry like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Henry answers on the second ring, and Alex starts right out the gate with, “I got the job!”

“That’s fantastic! It’s the one you wanted, right?”

“Yeah, it’s… it’s exactly what I wanted, and they offered me a really good salary and things, and it’s… it’s great. It’s really, really great.”

“When do you start? Bea’s going up to Manchester eventually, and it’s going to be a bit finding her a place and things, but you could stay on our couch, or I could help you figure something out if it’s sooner.” Alex grins, and they work out the logistics of Alex moving in with him while they eat lunch. Henry invites him to a celebratory dinner at a nice London restaurant, and Alex agrees, so Henry tells him to wear a tie and come early that week. 

If Alex spends the whole week thinking about how he’s going to see Henry all dressed up on Friday, well, that doesn’t mean anything.

Henry meets him at the train station, looking even more incredible than Alex had pictured him. Not that he’s imagined how nice Henry would look all dressed up; he definitely hasn’t spent ages thinking about what tie Henry would wear (it turns out it’s a purple one) or how it would look on him. It’s just that, from a purely objective standpoint, Henry looks very attractive.

They leave their bags at a luggage storage locker before Henry leads the way to a skyscraper, pulling Alex into the elevator and taking it up to the thirty eight floor. Alex has just enough time to admire Henry in his tie, a drastically different look from the baker who dresses for the heat of the tent, before the elevator doors ding open, and he finds himself in a fairy wonderland of hanging lights and arched trees, the London skyline spread beneath them. 

“Table for Fox,” Henry tells the hostess, and she leads them to one next to a window where they can admire the sunset over the city spread below them. They get settled for a moment before Henry looks over and, almost nervously, asks, “What do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous. I mean, the city, and the restaurant, and you, I mean it… it all looks great,” Alex says. He can feel his ears heating up as he realizes what he’s said about Henry, and he grabs his menu to try and hide it, asking, “Have you been here before?”

“Not yet. I’d heard good things and been waiting to try it. I’m sorry I can’t recommend anything, but I knew it would be nice, and I wanted to be sure we went somewhere special. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It’s… it’s wild,” Alex says, smiling. “And you’re sure I won’t be in the way moving in, or there’s no one else you’d rather live with? I know you’re close with your coworkers…”

“Yeah, well, none of my coworkers can bake as well as you can.”

“Ah, I see how it is. Just keeping me around for my shortbread. Well, I hope you’re prepared to be exposed to every spice your white ass colonized the world for.”

The waitress comes to take their orders before Henry can reply, and they order cocktails and dinner and crispy taquitos to share. When their drinks come, Henry toasts to Alex’s new job, and he clinks his glass to Henry’s, blushing a bit. They fall into an easy conversation about their weeks, and about the food when it gets there, sharing bites off each other’s plates. Henry eats his sushi with chopsticks, wielding them easily, and Alex fumbles his spectacularly, making them both laugh at his attempts. When they finish, Henry insists on paying, so Alex leaves the tip, and then they’re heading back to the train station, full and happy. There’s a warmth in Alex’s stomach as they board the train that’s been there since he stepped off, but he tries not to think too hard about what that might mean as he slides into a seat, his legs automatically twining with Henry’s. 

“Ready for this weekend?” Henry asks, and Alex shrugs.

“I hope so? I honestly didn’t think I’d make it this far, so I’m sort of flying by the seat of my pants, but I’m good at tray bakes. I mean, I think I am. I do a lot of them because I’m too lazy to do different batches of things, and it’s easier to cut a bar in half or something if there are more people than you expected. What about you?”

“As ready as I can be, I suppose. It’s meant to be hot tomorrow, and we’re doing chocolate.”

“It’s going to be awful in that tent,” Alex says, nodding. “Watch the technical be chocolate, too, just because it’s so hot.”

“Oh, god,” Henry mutters, leaning his head back against the seat with a sigh. “I can only imagine what a mess it’ll be in there.”

“Liam’s going to do well this week; I can just feel it,” Alex says after a moment. “He’s so good at this sort of thing. Cash would have done well, too.”

“Oh, absolutely. I wonder if he’ll still bake something.”

“I talked to him a few days ago; he’s taking a weekend trip with his family. I think they’re going to the lake district for a bit, since the kids like being outside. He said he’d send pictures, so I’ll probably show folks at dinner tomorrow night.”

“That’s really cool that you talked,” Henry says, and Alex nods. 

“Like I said, I didn’t really prep for this week, and it seemed like something he’d be good at, so I got some advice. Then we got to talking, about what his kids like and stuff. I might be babysitting for him sometime if he and his husband take a long weekend somewhere; his kids sound fun.” They keep talking, going on about other contestants and what they’ll do to stay in touch when the show ends, and Alex goes to bed that night with a head full of plans.

The next morning, Henry and Shaan are at their table, and Alex joining them feels as natural as anything. He’s come to love their little morning rituals; he likes getting to sit and listen to two of the smartest people he knows talk while he wakes up with his coffee. He likes that Henry always has coffee there for him, ready and waiting. And he likes that now, they’ll start inviting him into the conversation sometimes, too. Henry’s always the first, and he seems to take a second to make sure Alex is awake before he asks anything, and that feels good, too. So does sliding in next to Henry on the bus, Henry’s hand landing on his knee as they emotionally prepare for a day of baking. 

It all feels somehow normal and special this week, the joy of what he’s gotten used to blending with the knowledge that he almost lost it last week. He’d been one technical away from having spent this weekend studying at home instead of getting dinner and baking with Henry, and he’s determined to enjoy every minute he has from here on out. 

It’s as hot as they predicted, if not hotter, and the first challenge of the day is a chocolate traybake. Alex is doing brownies, taking one base batter to make cookie brownies, raspberry brownies, and salted caramel ones. 

He explains to the judges that he’d had to rush a bit, so he’s making his family’s favorites and hoping it works out, and they agree that it sounds like a good idea to save time and they’re looking forward to trying things. From there, Alex is just baking, letting himself fall into the rhythms he’s used to and trying not to worry about the fact that he’s not doing anything particularly fancy with the chocolate. Shaan is probably doing something incredible, but in heat like this, Alex knows there’s no way he could temper chocolate or get it into any sort of solid shape. 

As the clock winds down, he starts to realize that somehow, not even Shaan can power through the heat of the tent. He’s having trouble with his chocolate, and Alex is back to try to help, but it’s just not setting in time. It’s droopy, and hard to pipe into a design. He’s settled for some sort of artsy mess, and even then it’s just not working out. They put it in the fridge, then the freezer. It sets up, but it’s only a matter of time in the heat before it starts to melt again. By the end, Alex is holding the cake near the fridge while the seconds tick down, and Shaan barely gets to putting it on his bake as they run out of time. 

Their rest area is full of complaints about the heat and the fact that chocolate melts so fast when it’s like this, and it might be the first time in a while Alex isn’t leaning on Henry. It feels a bit weird, but still, it’s so hot that he just wants to let his head rest on the back of the bench while Nora passes out folded up paper fans. He’s dreading going back into the tent, but he’s happier than ever that he’d done brownies. He’d worried that it would be too simple, but given the heat of the day, anything else would have been a nightmare. 

When the judges come around, he’s one of the first people they come to. They try all three types, and Noel and Sandi badger them into picking favorites, which Alex jokes he’ll use to win their votes in future bakes. Prue laughs along with them, but Paul is quiet. Alex tries not to think about that.

Then, slowly, Paul is lowering a hand over the bench. “That is the best brownie I’ve ever had. Well done.” Alex beams, shaking Paul’s hand and sputtering thanks. After having thought he’d go home last week, to get a handshake on a signature feels incredible. By all rights, he shouldn’t even be here, and now he’s got a good shot going into the technical. 

He texts Cash a massive thank you at lunch, then tells June about the handshake. She’s proud of him, and as they settle for lunch, most of the early conversation is just about how happy they are to be out of the heat of the tent. Liam had done well on the signature, just as Alex had guessed, and Nora’s planning something elaborate for the showstopper that they all get to hear about. They try not to talk about the technical, but as the others congratulate him on the handshake, Alex can’t help but feel it won’t be too bad. After all, last weekend’s technical gods had smiled on him, so hopefully they’ll keep up their favor. 

He’s proved more right than he could have ever guessed. It’s bread, which sends his heart plummeting, but then it’s cinnamon rolls, and it’s soaring. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s cinnamon. The recipe is incredibly simple, but Alex just does his best, trying to remember mornings with his dad, when Oscar would sit him on the counter and show him how to knead dough, how to roll it out and cover it in cinnamon and sugar and then roll it up so Mom couldn’t see how much they put. She’d always complained that his dad’s cinnamon rolls were too sweet, so Alex tempers the sugar a bit with that in mind, but he’s always loved his dad’s sugar bombs the best.

The worst part by far is the frosting, because he’s not sure how much to put on. He looks around at all sorts of different ratios and decides to just go for it, smothering the rolls in an amount of icing that would make Oscar Diaz proud. “This one’s for you, dad,” he mutters, already planning a phone call for that night as the time runs out.

They’re all a-buzz as they go outside. There’s discussion about whether or not they’d consider cinnamon rolls a tray bake, and conversations about favorite childhood breakfasts. When Henry jokes that his was plain toast, Alex nearly shoves him off the couch for it. They keep it up as they go back into the tent, and Alex makes sure to keep teasing Henry and lighten the mood as they settle onto the ever smaller row of stools at the front of the tent. 

Alex doesn’t even realise he’s holding Henry’s hand for judging until Henry squeezes it tightly, and Alex just rubs little circles on the back of Henry’s as Paul pokes at his bread. Neither of them had expected to face the bread god’s judgement today, but it goes as well as could be expected over all. Alex comes second, which he doesn’t mind at all, especially when Liam is ahead of him purely because cinnamon rolls are Spencer’s favorite. He’s just made them for his boyfriend’s birthday, and that story alone was worth coming second for. Spirits are high as they get back to the hotel, and Alex is the one to suggest they go out to eat tonight, pointing out a new restaurant they’d passed on the way to the hotel. 

All things considered, it’s a weird place. They get a table to themselves, mostly because it’s almost entirely empty. The atmosphere is wrong somehow, and the food is just okay, but they make the best of it, and it becomes another strange memory with strangers who’ve become lifelong friends. 

“Next time I go anywhere with Pez, I’m bringing him there. He’d just combust on the spot,” Nora announces as they make their way to an ice cream parlor they’d tried a few weeks back. “Alex, bud, love the initiative, but maybe check Yelp next time?”

“It had good reviews! People said the food was good, and it had options that it seemed like everyone would like! I bet it’s a hot spot during the dinner rush.”

“We were there at 6:00, Alex. What other dinner rush is there?” Liam asks, “Second dinner?”

Alex swats at him, and Liam dodges easily, laughing. Shaan suggests they come back for that elusive second dinner when they’re all back in town for the picnic, and that reminder that they’ll be together again makes everyone smile. 

That night, when Alex calls his dad, he tells him about the cinnamon rolls. But he also tells him about their weird, messy, fun night out, and about how much he likes these people, and how glad he is that his dad and Raf get to come over to meet them. And even though he’s up late talking, he sets his alarm a good thirty minutes earlier than it needs to be so that he can wake up surrounded by big brains in the hotel lobby.

Those big brains just so happen to be talking about pets that morning, so Alex sits and listens to Henry talk about David while Shaan talks about a cat he refers to exclusively as Zahra’s Cat. It seems that he hasn’t seen much of it, despite apparently having seen Zahra a few times since she left, once for a miniature bake off of their own. Her nieces and nephews are, apparently, very harsh critics. As they load onto the bus, Alex leans over to Henry and says, “Told you there was something there.” 

Henry just rolls his eyes and asks about the showstopper, so Alex talks about the puzzle of cookie bars and fudge and layer bars he’s planning, which makes Henry grin. He says it sounds fun, and that he wants to be sure to get a chance to do it if it survives the judging. Alex just hopes he can get all the pieces to stay together without being crumbly, and fit together despite being different baked goods. Still, he knows a lot of tray bakes. He knows how to make a lot of different cookie bars. Honestly, with the amount of Christmas cookies he’d grown up with, he could probably just do a whole puzzle of cookie bars and be alright if he’s pressed for time. He just has to hope the judges like it, and that the flavors blend well enough that it seems cohesive. He’s also decided not to frost because he hates being rushed at the end, which Henry says is bold. Alex just hopes it’s not stupid that he’s planning to color different doughs when he flavors them. 

As they settle behind their benches, and when the clock starts, Alex pulls out his blueprints and gets to work. He’s baking for the first hour or so, just mixing doughs and coloring them and pressing them into trays, hoping they come out roughly the same height and bake. It’s not nearly as precise as Nora’s, but she’s got a ruler and all sorts of tools, and Alex just has his own two eyeballs. Still, as things start to come out, it’s alright. Besides, he’s doing a landscape, so if some pieces are a little taller, they can be hills. Or maybe mountains. But it’s fine; it doesn’t matter. 

What really matters is his blue meringue river. It’s a massive piece, and it’s not the centerpiece of his work since it’s not quite a tray bake, but at the semi-final stage of the game, it has to come out without any cracks. 

He’s running out of time to let it cool in the oven, but he refuses to take it out, focusing on the last pieces of his patchwork puzzle before pulling out the sheet of meringue. It’s only then that he realizes he has to move it all, and he’s looking around when Henry swoops in like the angel he is to help lift it into place just as the hosts call time. Henry congratulates Alex on the puzzle, and Alex just hopes the judges like it, too. It was another idea from a brainstorming session with Cash, who really should be here but is apparently having the weekend of his life with his family. Given how happy he looked in the pictures he’d sent the night before, Alex can’t feel too bad about still being here while he’s gone. 

The pictures had come in late last night, so Alex passes them around now, and everyone agrees that he looks happy. A few make jokes about how he’s seeing his family, and they wonder what that’s like. Liam figures it must be nice, and Nora speculates about whether or not they’ve forgotten she exists yet. As they go back into the tent, Shaan wonders if his family thinks he’s moved here permanently, since they never see him anywhere but the kitchen like he’s some kind of bat in a cave, and Alex is still grinning as he sits at his bench, hoping that he’s done enough to come back and bake with these people next week. Liam’s and Henry’s judgings go well, and Alex is happy for them, but in the back of his mind is the fact that the better the others do, the less likely he is to get to come back. Even with a handshake, he’s here on borrowed time.

When it’s his turn, he’s bringing it up and justifying that since everything was baked in a tray it’s technically a tray bake, even if it might not look it. Paul makes Prue turn around while he takes some pieces out, and she’s able to put them back in, which is a relief. She thinks it’s a remarkable idea, and one that a kid would especially love, and Alex feels good about it on his way back to his bench. Nora and Shaan go up in turn, and they both leave looking positive enough, but as soon as the cameras cut, Alex’s bench is the one people flock to, trying to sample every type of cookie he’d made. He barely gets a picture of the puzzle before they’re pulling pieces and complimenting him, and as they go up for their final judging, Henry leans over to say, “You’re star baker this week, I know it.”

Alex hadn’t even let himself consider that. He’d barely let himself consider he’d make it to the quarter finals, but as the hosts talk about how the star baker wasn’t a puzzle this week, he feels his heart jump to his throat. When his name is called, Henry and Nora both hug him, and Henry mutters, “Told you.”

Shaan goes home for the week, untempered chocolate and over-proofed cinnamon rolls serving as nails in his coffin. He just jokes that his family won’t know what to do with him now that he can be in other parts of the world again, and how he can’t believe he tried to temper chocolate in the tent in the middle of summer when he didn’t need to. 

June screams when Alex calls to tell her he’s won star baker, and the congratulation texts are already flowing in as he and Henry board the train. Bea texts him congrats, and so does Pez, and that’s when Alex notices that Henry’s made them a group chat. He’s using it to tell them about Alex’s bakes, and Pez, ever the instigator, is looking into a time aside from the picnic where they can all get together to catch up. Alex just watches them talk for a bit, then looks up at Henry across from him and says, “This was a good idea. The group chat, I mean. I like it. It’s fun to have something with all of them.”

“Well, someone had to talk about how impressive you were this week, Mr. Star Baker. Did you see Cash wants credit when you publish your cookbook?”

“No one in this country would buy my cookbook and we know it. My taste buds and recipes are simply too refined for your delicate British sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Put a picture of yourself on the cover and people might buy it to use as art,” Henry says. He turns bright pink a minute later, and promptly buries his face in his open laptop, and Alex thinks that’s the end of it when Henry turns it around with a grin. “Look at this. All these cookbooks for seasoned food, selling well in the UK.”

“How do you do that?” Alex asks, grinning. “How do you just… know to google things, and how to google to find what you want?”

“Alex, half of what I do at work is just googling things,” Henry says, and Alex just shakes his head.

“Still. It’s cool. You’re… you’re really smart, and good at what you do. I know I haven’t seen you at work, but if you actually use half the skills you’ve told me you do, you’re really, really good at it.”

“Yes, well, I’d be an awful lawyer. No big name getting job offers like you. Dear lord, you got a job and star baker all in one week. How are you ever going to top that?” Henry asks, and Alex just laughs, letting himself bask in the joy of knowing he gets to do this all again next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Alex gets star baker! I feel like he'd default to tray bakes since they're faster and simpler than a lot of other types of baking (cookie bars especially-- no cutting out or rolling, just press in and bake), so it felt like the right week to give it to him.   
> \--   
> Also, if I listed some recipes that I used for reference/that I really like, would y'all want that? I'd probably add them as a chapter eleven, since a lot are links, with a few written out if they're ones I swear by/have tweaked a bit.  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	9. Pastry Week

Henry swears he spends half the next week with butter on his hands and the other half in a theater. They’re getting close to opening, and the tables that the actors will be moving for the show finally came in. They’re heavier than the ones they’d practiced with, so Henry spends his days talking with stage managers and shop heads and directors about how to fix that, then talking to a lighting designer about why the plans he was supposed to have in last week aren’t ready yet.

Then, he goes home to cover the kitchen in flour and butter as he preps for pastry week, Bea often settling on the kitchen table or a counter with her guitar to keep him company and try bits of whatever he’s making. It’s a busy rhythm, not one he could ever keep up long term, but he loves how much time he’s spending with Bea, especially before she leaves. She’s started packing; the boxes are slowly reaching out of her bedroom and into the living room. As much as he’s excited for Alex to move in, Henry is steadfastly ignoring the boxes that mean Bea is moving out, deciding instead to spend as much time with her as he can between work and baking.

All of that combines for a hectic week, and he decides on Friday that he’s not going to do any work on the train. Instead, when he slides into the seat across from Alex, he leaves everything in his bag except a deck of cards.

“Hello,” Alex says, already reaching for the cards with one hand as he shoves his laptop into his bag with the other. “Do you just always have these? What are we playing?”

“Anything you want.”

“Ooph, you sound tired. Long week?” Alex asks, and Henry laughs.

“With pastry, Bea moving, and work? It’s been a whirlwind. I need to stop thinking for at least two hours.”

“I know just the game.” Alex shuffles with the confidence of someone who’s been doing it for ages, and Henry tries not to stare at his fingers as they curl around the cards, tapping them on the table and bridging them up, not even paying attention to the cards themselves. He keeps Henry in the dark about what they’re playing until he deals, and only then does he reveal that it’s Go Fish. Henry rolls his eyes, but given who Alex is, he knows the game will be anything but boring. Alex could probably make watching paint dry feel like something big and exciting.

They settle on a game, and Alex deals easily, clarifying the rules as he does. Henry decides that he is very much not attracted to the way that Alex deals, or to his easy grin as he does, or to anything at all about Alex’s easy confidence with the cards. He’s just glad for a break and a card game, that’s all.

They play cards for most of the ride, Henry getting their drinks automatically when the trolley comes around and Alex ignoring the protests about how late he’s drinking coffee. It’s fun, and it’s normal, and Henry can almost forget that it’s also pastry week. The one time he brings it up, Alex seems equally determined to forget, so instead, they talk about how Bea’s feeling about her move, and how ready Alex is to come to London, and how busy Henry’s week was. They stay solidly away from any conversation about pastry, and even if Alex’s reaction to it being brought up at all was worrying, Henry’s glad to give them both a break.

The next morning, it takes him a second to realize why the hotel lobby feels so empty when he comes down. When he realizes he’s looking for Shaan, he sends him a text and settles at an empty table with a coffee for Alex beside him. Alex is down earlier than normal, still yawning and with his hair sticking up on one side as he sits down. It’s the most natural thing in the world for Henry to reach up and brush it down as Alex says, “Thought you might be a bit lonely this morning. I’m not as smart as Shaan, but maybe I can still be interesting to talk to, since he’s not here this week.”

He’s clearly still waking up, and something about that, about Alex coming down to keep him company, warms Henry more than any cup of tea. It’s then that he finally asks about Alex’s plans, and Alex shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I… If I’m honest, I think this is the week I go. I know I said that a few weeks back, but that technical fluke saved me, and I just… let’s just say pastry and I don’t get along. I know this is going to shock you, but I’m not exactly the type to spend ages rolling out super fine layers of butter and dough in my spare time. But I’m going to have fun with it, so you know. What happens will happen. What about you; how are you feeling about it?”

“I feel good, or as good as I can I suppose. Semi-finals. I’m not entirely sure I believed I’d make it past the first few weeks, and to be here, especially with how good you and Nora and Liam are, feels incredible. I’m ready, but knowing Nora, there’s no way I’m going to get star baker or anything.”

“Oh absolutely. Nora’s so good at this stuff; she’s probably got like… the exact perfect measurements and timings all figured out down to the fraction of a second or something. And Liam, too! I wouldn’t be surprised if Liam swooped in and got it; the two of you have such personal connections with the ways you bake. He told me once that he only learned because he was scared his boyfriend’s mom wouldn’t like him, and now apparently they get together before any big meal and just bake a ton of food for everyone. Then you’ve got such a personal connection to things, too, with Bea and your dad, and I think that’s really cool.”

“Hey, don’t count yourself out. You’ve got a really personal fire, too. You’ll probably do something incredible that none of us have heard of and wow the judges with a brilliant… what do you call it? Texican? Flavor.”

“Texican, yeah,” Alex says, grinning. “I hope something I do goes over well this weekend, that’s all. I want it to be fun, and I want to do one bake that they like. After that I don’t care.”

They talk about Henry’s plans as they load onto the bus, how his raspberry pain au chocolat is a good idea but is going to make a mess in the tent. He and Alex definitely don’t need to share a seat anymore, but Alex still slides in beside him, dragging Nora and Liam into their conversation as they settle nearby.

Nora’s hanging over the back of a seat and Liam’s resting against his window, and suddenly, the whole thing feels so much more relaxed than Henry could have ever guessed a semifinal of a show like Bake Off would feel. It’s something that he’s been thinking and worrying about for ages, something he’d imagined and dreamed of about a million times, but he never could have pictured a bus ride there where he’s sharing a seat with a cute boy, watching Nora tease Liam about getting Spencer’s good luck wish before they start. He’d known there might be other queer folks in the competition, but he never imagined a group that talks so openly and happily about who they are, or one where he’d feel so entirely comfortable as he goes into something that should be terrifying.

Even as they head into the tent and get settled behind their benches, the cameras rolling and the reality of the semifinals sinking in, he’s not overly worried. He’s just baking in a tent with three of his friends and a camera crew, and he’s surprised by how normal it all feels. It probably helps that he’s used to making these with Bea in the kitchen, talking and laughing with him while he works. It’s made them feel like a thing he makes with people he cares about, so making them here, with Alex and Nora and Liam, feels like simply an extension of that. It helps that he’s gotten to know the crew a bit, too, of course; he can call for Sam by name as he puts his pastry in the oven and grin at James as he goes to get a good look at what Alex is doing.

A few of his pastries leak filling, and he knows Sam has a camera on him as he strategically places them at the back of the plate, but he can’t bring himself to care. He knows the judges will see them, anyway, but at least they’ll see the perfectly golden brown ones first. He’s finished a few minutes early and sees Nora helping Liam arrange his, so he goes over to Alex and helps pipe stems onto the pumpkins decorating his pastry, letting Alex arrange them and getting the last one on just as the hosts call time. He’d been skeptical of Alex’s pumpkin pop tarts, though he’d never have said it out loud, but they look great, and as he grabs a spoonful of filling to take with him, it’s delicious.

He tells Alex as much as they go out to take a break, all piling onto the same wicker bench despite the heat. Nora drapes across Alex’s lap, and Liam perches on the arm opposite her so he can face them, and the four of them talk about their bakes and the things they’re looking forward to next week and how it’s too hot to be baking but they’re still glad to be baking together. Liam’s made Spencer’s favorite breakfast, and he makes them promise to wait until he sends Spencer a picture before they eat any of the ones the judges don’t.

It’s only as they’re going back into the tent that Henry really processes how few of them are left. The four benches feel far apart all of a sudden, and the fact that there are only four of them to be judged feels suddenly horrifying. The judges will have more time with them, and that means more time to find a problem or something else wrong. Still, they come to Henry first, and they seem happy enough. They think that using a bar of chocolate and letting it melt in the oven instead of trying to pipe something in is a good idea, and they like his pastry well enough. Nora’s next, and her feedback feels pretty standard for her. Paul has no idea how she’s pulled off what she’s done, Prue thinks the flavors blend well, and the hosts have a joke or two about her plans before they move on to Liam. He’s got a story about making these for breakfast the first morning after Spencer moved in with him, which makes the judges smile. They seem to like his, too; they’ve always appreciated his more classic style, and even if he doesn’t usually make things that overwhelm them with their grandeur, everything he does is done perfectly.

Then they come to Alex, and he’s talking about piping jack-o’-lantern faces onto pumpkin empanadas every October. Prue tells him they’re delightful, and Paul just chews with a silence Henry barely dares recognize. If he was more confident, he’d say that’s the same face Paul had while he tried Henry’s ginger biscuits the day he got a handshake. Alex keeps glancing back at him, looking worried, but Henry isn’t surprised at all when Paul extends his hand with a smile.

The grin that cuts across Alex’s face could replace the sun. It’s blinding, but Henry can’t bring himself to look away as Alex shakes Paul’s hand happily, receiving the praise on his bake with all the decorum of an excited puppy. And Henry thinks to himself that he can’t be into Alex, because if he was, he’d fall in love with that grin. If he were interested in falling in love with Alex, the excited head nods and the firm handshake would make him do it. But he doesn’t feel any differently.

When the cameras cut and the judges step back, Henry is at Alex’s bench immediately, grabbing a poptart with one hand and using his free arm to wrap Alex in a hug. Alex hugs him back, laughing a bit. “I did it. That’s the last thing on the list; if I go this week I did everything I wanted to.”

Henry just hugs him, taking a bit of pastry over Alex’s shoulder. Alex shoves him off as he chews too close to his ear, but that just means he gets to see that grin again. It stays solidly in place as they do interviews, and as they head to lunch, all congratulating Alex, Henry finds that he can’t stop beaming, either.

Lunch is somehow as relaxed as the bus ride to the tent had been, despite the looming technical. It probably helps that they’d all done decently in the signature, but Henry knows it’s definitely something about these people, too. They all blend well together, and Nora’s spontaneity and Alex’s carefree demeanor pulling Henry and Liam along for adventures, everything from a night out to an excessively competitive game of spoons when they finish lunch early. Henry goes back into the tent with a bruise forming on his forearm and a grin on his face.

Still, as the hosts introduce their technical, the jovial atmosphere starts to dissipate. As Henry glances through the recipe, he spares a glance at Alex, whose mouth is set in a thin line. It’s something called Kouig-Amann, and though Henry’s never heard of it, it looks like a blend of laminated pastry and bread. The two things Alex hates, married into one recipe. Henry tries his best to put Alex out of his mind for the bake, to just focus on doing his best and let the others do the same, but he can’t help glancing over once his tray of butter and pastry is chilling. Alex looks incredibly stressed, and Henry glances at his recipe for a second before deciding he has time to go over.

When he gets to Alex’s bench, he’s met with a quiet, steady stream of Spanish curses. He can feel the camera on him as he says, “I’ve got a minute. How can I help? What do you need?”

“I just… I… hate bread,” Alex says. “I forgot to dissolve yeast; do you think that matters? It’s not that big of a deal, right?”

“I… I’m not sure. I don’t think so? The bread recipe I use doesn’t have you dissolve it ahead of time,” Henry says, and Alex relaxes a bit. “You’ll be okay. You’re a good baker, and you’re good at puzzles. Just treat this like a puzzle, and you’ll do well.”

“Thank you,” Alex says. He spares a moment to look up from his dough, and he seems to be doing better, so Henry squeezes his shoulder and goes back to his own bench knowing that Alex is, if not doing particularly well, at least doing better than he was or could be.

Time goes by faster than any of them are truly prepared for, but Henry is decently happy with his bake. It’s gotten a bit burnt at the tops, but they look nice enough. Alex doesn’t seem particularly thrilled as they take a break, but Nora is complaining loudly enough for all of them that mixing bread with pastry for a technical is just cruel, so Henry just pulls Alex against him as Alex nods along with her rant. Alex is quieter than normal, but Henry just rubs his arm and hopes that no matter what happens, he’s done his best.

When they file back into the tent for judging, the four stools at the front of the tent seem far too few. Just like always, Henry and Alex settle next to each other, and Alex grabs Henry’s hand, squeezing it tightly as the judges hem and haw over their different bakes, talking about the textures and the flavors and the looks. Then it’s time to announce the results, and Alex’s grip on his hand gets somehow tighter.

Alex comes fourth, which wouldn’t have been bad weeks ago but is bad now. He’s a chronic underprover, and this week is no exception. Paul says he’d expected better, that Alex should be taking his time, especially at this point in the competition, and Alex just nods. His grip on Henry’s hand is tight, and Sandi says something about how it’s hard to know just how long things will take in the tent. Henry rains silent praises on her.

He comes in third, though, with the burning on the top and the general flavor both knocking him down a few points. He should have watched more closely; he’d known he should have watched. With Alex’s handshake that morning, he’s suddenly staring down the very real possibility that he’ll be the one not coming back next week. As much as he wants the others to come back, he realizes suddenly that he really, really wants to come back, too.

He’s reckoning with that on the way back to their hotel, and he knows Alex is reckoning with his last place finish, so they’re quiet as Liam congratulates Nora on her win and the two of them pick a place to eat that night. Still, a phone call with Bea and a few minutes in his hotel room help. She’s proud of him, of course; she always is. And more than that, she’s a calming presence, someone to reassure him that he’s making people proud and happy. What happens will happen, and his job is to do his best. When he runs into Alex in the hallway headed to dinner, he repeats Bea’s words, and Alex grins.

“Thanks. It’s… I’m trying to just take this as it comes, you know? I thought I’d be gone two weeks ago, and that really helps put it in perspective if I’m honest. I’ve done what I came to do, and I’ve gotten two extra weeks with y’all; whatever happens I’m glad.”

Henry just smiles at that, Liam joining them before he has time to answer. They meet Nora in the lobby, and she leads them to a new restaurant. She’s apparently picked up Pez’s knack for finding good places on the fly, and she leads them to a little hole in the wall restaurant. Early on, they would have filled this place, but the four of them find a table comfortably and talk about anything except baking.

The next morning, somehow, Alex beats Henry to the lobby. He’s normally late, and he’ll be yawning or otherwise clearly fresh from bed, but this morning, he’s sitting at their little table with a cup of coffee, a chair pushed out and a cup of tea waiting for Henry to join him.

“Everything alright?” Henry asks, and Alex nods.

“Just couldn’t sleep is all. How’re you?”

“Alright. Not feeling entirely ready for today, but I suppose I never really do.”

Alex hums, sipping his coffee for a minute or two before asking, “Uh, this is probably weird for me to not know, but you’re not dating anyone, are you?”

Henry nearly chokes on his tea, but he shakes his head. Alex just nods thoughtfully. “Okay. I didn’t think so, I just didn’t know if you had like… a boyfriend who goes to another school or a Canadian girlfriend or something.” Henry lets out a bit of a snort at that, and Alex looks up.

“No girlfriend,” Henry says, grinning. “Not since I was in secondary school, and then it didn’t go particularly well. I think we both turned out to be gay, actually. She wasn’t attracted to men, at any rate. You?”

“Not right now. I dated some girls in high school and a boy the summer after we graduated. Had a few partners in undergrad, but nothing too serious. Then grad school’s been kicking my ass since,” Alex says. “I think Liam’s the only one of the four of us with a partner, at least right now. I still think Shaan and Zahra are going to get together.”

Henry takes a drink of his tea to give himself a moment to process all of that. He’d been pretty sure Alex was queer, but still. It was an odd question, and he can’t seem to get his heart to slow down or his brain to stop thinking about it. It’s just because the question was out of the blue is all; he probably didn’t mean anything by it. He certainly doesn’t look like he’s thinking too hard about it, so it must be nothing. Henry’s just overreacting is all. Still, even as they talk about other things, and even as they’re getting on the bus and Alex is sliding in next to him, Henry can’t stop thinking about the way Alex had looked at him when he’d asked.

It’s only once they’re on the bus that Henry lets himself think about the upcoming bake. He did well in the signature, but they all did well in the signature, and he came third in the technical. This could be it, and he knows it, but as he settles behind his bench, he resolves not to care.

He’s done what he came here to do; he’d finished the Bake Off checklist and made his dad and Bea proud. He’s made good friends and good food, and that’s all he really wanted. So as he starts to work on his set of four miniature pies, all with full puff pastry crusts and all fillings inspired by various British monarchs, he tries to focus on the fact that he’s done his best, and that’s all anyone could really ask.

He talks to the judges easily, and they seem to think he has a good idea with the different dishes. They’re interested in the ingredients he’s brought with him, and he’s more than happy to ramble about his research and the history of the foods he’s making. Then they’re moving on, and it’s just him and his elderflowers and his dates and the rest of his ingredients, and he’s laminating dough and mixing things up and blind baking crusts. This bake, he doesn’t have the time to check in with the others or see what they’re doing. He barely has time to finish his own bake, and he’s just adding final touches when the hosts call time.

It’s like he’s been in some sort of pie-baking trance, and he has to shake himself out a bit as he steps back. His pies look good. Then he looks over at the others, and Nora’s look incredible. Liam’s are good, at least from the outside. Alex’s look a bit pale on top, but Alex seems alright enough, though he settles down close to Henry on the couch. Henry can’t tell if that’s normal or upset, though; Alex has been getting cuddlier as they get closer.

“How do you feel?” he asks, and Alex shakes his head with a shrug.

“They’re underbaked, but you know. I did my best, and like I said, I’m sort of here on borrowed time anyway. So if I go this week, none of you are allowed to be upset, y’all hear that? I don’t want anyone upset this week.”

The others agree, and Alex lets his head fall back onto Henry’s shoulders. Henry plays with his hair a bit while the tent gets cleaned up. Then they’re heading back in for judging, and Henry’s up first.

It isn’t awful. It’s not the best judging he’s ever had, but he’s only got one soggy bottom, which is good. All in all, they seem to like his pies, though not as much as they seem to love Nora’s. She’s done well all week, and Henry doesn’t think anyone’s surprised by that. Pastry is her thing; she’s the one who can work with the finicky bits of it and get it all right.

Liam’s done well, too, and then Alex carries his up. They’re noticeably lighter than the others, and though the judges think he’s done parts of them well, they’re not fully baked. Alex just nods along with their criticism, but Henry knows he’s kicking himself for it. He grabs Alex’s hand as they settle on the stools at the front of the tent, and Alex squeezes it just once, a little smile on his face as Liam and Nora settle on the other two seats.

Nora gets star baker, and Alex gives her a hug, grinning and ruffling her hair. Then comes the hard part, but when Noel announces that they’ll be sending Alex home, he accepts their hugs with reassurances that he’s alright, and that they all deserve to be in the final next week. As Nora starts to tell him they’ll miss him, he stops her with a finger on her lips.

“Hey, no, you’re not allowed to be sad. None of you can be sad for me; it’s not allowed. Y’all promised.” That startles a laugh out of Henry, and Alex smiles at him, a hand on his shoulder. “Bake Off finalist; look at you! Your dad would be so proud.”

They finish up their interviews, and Alex is ahead of all of them getting onto the bus. He’d left in a hurry, so Henry wonders if he’s alright, but when he slides in next to him on the bus seat, he seems fine. It’s only once they’re on the train home that Alex opens his jacket to reveal it’s full of kitchen utensils. There are two spoons, a bowl, an apron, and a hot pad. Henry gawks.

“Don’t tell? All my kitchen supplies are actually my roommate’s, and I didn’t notice until we all started packing.”

Henry just starts laughing at that, and he promises not to tell anyone important as long as they facetime Nora immediately, and she laughs so hard on her train ride home that the person behind her looks concerned. Once they’ve settled down a bit, Alex congratulates them both on being finalists before Nora has to hang up, and then they’re left with the simple fact that Henry’s a finalist and Alex isn’t.

“You, uh, you were really good in there,” Henry says after a bit. “I mean it. It’s not like just anyone can waltz into that tent and make it to the semifinals. You’re really good.”

“Thanks, but uh… you don’t have to do that,” Alex says. “I mean, I appreciate it, but I’m fine. It was my time to go, and uh… this is sort of embarrassing, but can I tell you a secret?” Henry nods, so Alex forges ahead, the tips of his ears slowly turning red. “Our first week in the tent, after that first day, I texted June that all I wanted from the whole thing was your number. I went in wanting a handshake from Paul and to get to make calaveras and all that, but that all went out the window the second I saw you. You are… you’re amazing, you are. You were so cute that first day in the station, and on the ride back. You didn’t need it to be about you all the time, you didn’t need to talk over Pez or fight his energy at all, but you also didn’t back down in the face of it. And the more time we’ve spent together, the more I’ve been glad to know you. I’m serious! You’re… you’re a really great guy, and I’m glad I met you. That made it worth it.”

Henry knows he’s bright red. He knows he should say something, but Alex is looking at him, and he can’t seem to remind his lungs how to breathe. He has a degree in English, and his French isn’t exactly bad either, but he can’t find a single word in either language to describe how he’s feeling. It’s beyond butterflies; if pressed he’d say it’s more like a tree or a sunflower in his stomach. Something rooting him to the spot, keeping him grounded and steady and brimming with potential. In this moment, whatever’s been developing between them could all come out in, right here on this train car.

“I, um, I…” He manages, then stops for a second and breathes, then says, “I’m really, really glad I met you, too. It’s not going to be the same without you next week, even if you’ll be at the picnic and everything. I’ve enjoyed our time, and I… I really, really don’t want it to end. I’m glad you’re moving in, and I… if you want, even before that, I’d love to maybe do dinner again sometime? And, uh, maybe it could be… I don’t know, it doesn’t have to be anything, it would just be fun to get dinner with you.”

“Aww, Hen, if I didn’t know better I’d think you almost asked me out,” Alex says, grinning as he flags down the woman with the drink cart and gets their go tos. Henry just hopes Alex is too distracted to notice his blush, too busy to hear as he mumbles, “I was trying to.”

They talk about their plans to move in together for the rest of the ride, and something in Alex’s eye makes Henry think maybe he heard. As they pull into the London station, Alex grabs his arm and says, “I’d like that dinner sometime. Somewhere nice; my treat since you did the last one. And as a congrats on being a finalist. Make me proud next week; don’t tell the others but I’ll be rooting for you.”

He lets go with a wink that rearranges every bit of Henry’s insides, and Henry steps off the train with a bit more hope than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!! I looked at the kinds of things people have made on _Bake Off_ (Alice's sheep (the best thing I've ever seen), Nadia's levitating pop can cake, Stephen's bread cake, etc), and I looked at Alex, and as much as I adore him, I just... don't quite think he would have the patience for something like that, especially with pastry challenges.  
> \--  
> ALSO!!! ART!!!! BY @EMRY-STARS ON TUMBLR; I'M IN LOVE WITH IT!!!!!  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	10. Final

Alex spends most of the next week thinking about Henry. More specifically, he spends most of the next week thinking about Henry asking him to dinner. Monday is almost exclusively dedicated to thinking about Henry’s face, the way he’d looked down and blushed when he’d said it didn’t have to be anything. He’d wanted to make it a date, right? Alex isn’t making that up? 

By Tuesday, he’s pretty sure Henry had meant to ask him on a date. And he would have said yes; that’s just a given. Still, Henry deserves more than just Alex’s gut answer. Henry, thoughtful, considerate, wonderful Henry, deserves an equally thoughtful response, so Alex spends most of Wednesday making sure he actually, really does want to date him, because asking Henry on a date only to realize two days later that he doesn’t want to would be an issue. It wouldn’t be fair, and it would make living together incredibly awkward, so for everyone’s good, Alex takes a day to make sure it’s what he wants.

It is. He really, really wants to date Henry. By Thursday, he’s realized they have to talk about things before they see each other again, so he calls Henry after work. He answers quickly, and before he’s even done saying hello, Alex says, “When we get dinner, it should be a date.”

On the other end of the line, he can hear Henry coughing as he chokes on whatever he’d been drinking. “I’m sorry?”

“We don’t have to, but I’ve been thinking about it all week, and if you want it to be a date, I think it should be. I… I’d like that, if you want.”

“I… alright. I’d like that, too. Um, what does next week look like for you?” And suddenly, Alex is planning his first date with Henry. He’s suddenly thinking about where they should go, and when, and how it will work with the moving schedule they’d already built. By the time they go to bed, Alex wishing Henry good luck that weekend in case they don’t talk before, they have a date set up at a little pizza place and arcade Henry knows. Henry’s promised not to tell the others just yet, but Alex can’t wait for them to find out. June is excited but not surprised when he calls her, and at first he’s almost offended, but when she explains to him just how much he’s talked about Henry in the past nine weeks, things start to fall into place a bit. Maybe the way he’d gravitated toward Henry had meant something. Maybe it was important that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him while they were apart, or that he’d gone out of his way to spend time with him. Maybe, if June’s right, he’s had a crush on Henry since week one. 

Who knew.

They’ve agreed not to tell anyone aside from their sisters, so when Alex meets his dad and Raf in London on Saturday, he can’t say anything. They stop by Henry’s and Bea’s flat together, dropping off a few boxes of Alex’s things, and Henry texts that he’d done decently in the signature and is worried about the technical. Nora thinks she saw paintbrushes in the tent, and they’re hoping it’s for one of the hosts’ gimmicks, but they’re all a bit worried. Alex sends him an encouraging text as they take the tube to the V&A, and Alex shows his dad and Raf all the things Henry had loved. He’s showing them the statue garden that Henry had shown him, talking about what he’d learned from Henry and what it meant, when he catches the end of a look between the two of them. He hasn’t gotten enough of it to know what it means, and his dad is smiling, so he tries not to think about it as they get hungry and head to the first place he ate with Henry.

As they sit down, asking him questions about the show and who they’ll meet tomorrow, Alex realizes he’s been talking about Henry a lot. He can’t exactly help it, though; his dad and Raf ask questions, and Henry is the one he’s closest to out of everyone. He’s moving in with Henry; it makes sense to talk about him the most so that they know he’s not moving in with a weird random stranger. It’s fine. The little smiles on their faces when he talks about Henry don’t mean anything.

His dad and Raf are both jetlagged and turn in early that night, leaving Alex with some time to text Henry and see how things are going. Apparently it’s as stressful as they’d all expected; the technical was a cake where every layer had to be brushed on separately and they’d all struggled with getting the right amount on the brush. No one has pulled ahead or fallen behind on the first day, so it’s all down to tomorrow’s showstopper. Alex texts the group chat to wish them all luck, then texts Henry separately to wish him a little extra. Henry says he’s ridiculous, but he thanks him anyway. 

From there, Alex finalizes plans for meeting Bea at the London station tomorrow and finding June and some of the others once they’re in Berkshire tomorrow. As he turns in, he tries his hardest not to think about Henry sitting alone in the hotel lobby.

He needn’t have worried. The next morning, Henry texts them all an early selfie of him, Nora, and Liam at the table in the lobby where he always sits. Apparently, none of them were particularly relaxed during the night, and they’ve all found their way down early to enjoy breakfast together. Alex gets in a final good luck text before they’re on the train and the contestants are going into the final showstopper. He finds Bea sending Henry a similar text and introduces her to his dad and Raf, and the four of them take over a table with card games as Alex worries about Henry. He hopes he’s doing well, but more importantly, he hopes he’s doing something to make himself proud. Bea and Alex and everyone else are already proud of him, but more than anything, Alex just hopes he’s proud.

The train ride is familiar, and they’re getting into the station and meeting Pez the same place Alex met him all that time ago, but now he’s introducing Bea and his dad and Raf to Pez and his family. June, his mom, and Leo join them not long after, and there’s another round of introductions, and they’re all loading into a minibus to be shuttled to Welford Park.

The picnic is already started when they get there, and Cash greets them with massive hugs, kickstarting another round of introductions. Before Alex knows it, one of Cash’s kids is on his back, demanding rides around the rest of the fair that Alex is more than happy to provide while her brother passes her grass to drop on Alex’s head. They see Shaan and Zahra, and there are hugs and introductions as Raf and Oliver start talking near one of the booths. And all the while, Alex keeps glancing toward the tent where he knows Henry is baking his heart out. 

They do their interviews, Alex with a head covered in plucked grass and a child hanging around his neck. He admits to a TV camera that he hopes Henry wins, but tells them not to tell the others. They’ll find out, of course, but ideally, they’ll find out after they find out that Alex and Henry are dating, and they won’t be able to complain then. That’s assuming that he and Henry are good together, of course, but Alex isn’t particularly interested in imagining the alternative. 

When the bakers emerge from the tent, Alex is one of the first to start cheering, and he and Bea start toward Henry at the same time. He’s barely set his bake down before they’re wrapping him in massive hugs, and he just hugs them back, laughing a bit.

“I did it. I… it’s over; I did it.” 

Alex gives him a squeeze and goes to hug the others, and he finds Nora squirming out of a hug from her parents to set down her bake. Liam is hugging someone who must be Spencer, and a woman who must be Spencer’s mom is holding his dish, trying to find a place to put it. Alex takes it from her with a grin, and she’s freed up to hug Liam, too. He’s laughing at something Spencer’s said, and Alex is so, so happy for him. He’s happy and proud of all of them, as the bakers all reunite to celebrate the finalists and shower them with love. There are more introductions, and Cash’s daughter is back on Alex’s back for them, still tugging on his hair. Alex has just set her down to try and get a moment alone with Henry when the judges call finalists forward, so instead of pulling Henry aside, he’s watching as he steps up to the front, taking Liam’s hand as Nora takes his. 

There’s a moment where it feels like everyone is holding their breath. Alex sees Henry’s shoulders tense a bit, and beside him, Bea grabs his hand. He gives it a squeeze as they watch Henry, both wrapped in a quiet anticipation. Henry doesn’t have to win this for them; they’re both already proud of him. Mostly, Alex is just worried that if he doesn’t win, he’ll feel like he’s let his dad down. As the hosts draw out the announcement, cameras focused in on them and on each of the contestants, Henry seems to relax just a bit. It’s all Alex can do to hope that means he’s happy as they announce the winner.

Liam.

Any worry Alex would have had evaporates as Nora and Henry both wrap him in hugs, only letting go when Spencer gets there a moment later to pick him up and spin him. Liam is laughing, breathless and happy, and beside him, Henry’s grin is bigger than Alex has ever seen it. 

Alex has thought a lot about how he’ll greet Henry after the competition is over. He’s thought about what will happen to them after the show probably since the first week, and he’d dedicated most of Friday and a good portion of Saturday to thinking about how that plan would change now that they’re dating. Because the thing is, he knew he’d probably want to kiss Henry, but just like Henry deserved more than an impulsive push to turn their dinner into a date, he deserves more than an impulsive first kiss or dating announcement. He’s so thoughtful, and he deserves that level of thoughtfulness in return, so Alex has done his best to think through as many options as possible and come up with a good solution.

So here’s the thing. Alex decided, late last night, that if he wanted to kiss Henry today, he’d do it on the cheek. That would let them decide together how to tell the others that they’re dating, and if dating as a whole goes horribly, a cheek kiss won’t make living together awkward. Plus, if he won, a cheek kiss wouldn’t take the attention away from how incredibly he’s done in the tent, and if he lost, a little kiss on the cheek wouldn’t steal the winner’s thunder. But when Henry turns out of his hug with Bea and Alex has him to himself, that massive smile, frosting stuck in his hair, all of that goes out the window. 

He doesn’t even know if the others are looking when he grabs Henry, and he only remembers to correct for a cheek kiss at the last minute. At least, he’s going to go for the cheek kiss. He is. He’s decided this; he’s going to have self control because Henry deserves it. But his lips just brush Henry’s cheek as Henry turns his head, and they meet his lips instead.

And _oh_. 

Alex isn’t sure why he didn’t do this in the first place. He’s not sure of much, really, beyond the feeling of Henry’s lips on his. Henry’s hands are on his back, one finding its way to his hair. When they break apart, Henry rests his forehead against Alex’s for just a second, and Alex can’t help the sort of breathless laugh. He wonders if the frosting will transfer from Henry’s hair to his, though he can’t bring himself to care.

“Congratulations,” he says, though it feels redundant. Henry laughs, too, dropping another quick kiss onto the corner of Alex’s mouth before arms wrap around both of them. Alex turns to see Nora, and a second later he realizes she’s cheering. He shushes her as he glances around to see Liam still the center of attention as a whole; it turns out only Nora noticed when his whole world shifted so drastically. Henry’s rearranged everything inside of him, and Liam’s still in the spotlight where he belongs. Let him have his moment; Alex has everything he needs right here.

It seems to take ages, but when things settle down a bit, Alex pulls Henry toward a nearby stream. It’s quiet here, away from all the hustle and bustle of the celebration around the tent, Alex gets a moment to ask, “How do you feel? About… you know, the bake, and how it all went?”  
“I feel good,” Henry says, smiling. “I made my dad proud; I did what I came to and more. And really, I… my dad might not be here in person to see it, but I know he’s proud and he’s here. That’s all I needed really; I didn’t need a trophy. And I don’t think Liam exactly needed it, either, but for him, it meant a bit more. He taught himself to bake because he thought Spencer’s mom wouldn’t like him, so, well. I think it just meant a bit more to him to take that plate home than it might have for me or Nora.”

“I’m glad for him,” Alex says, grinning. “And I’m glad for you, too. And for me. I’m glad I met you, and I… I’m glad we’re going to see where this takes us.”

“Yes, well. That really will be our next adventure.”

**Epilogue, a few months later**

Alex settles on the couch, right next to Henry, and presses a kiss to his cheek as an excuse to grab the remote. “Alright, y’all, get your asses over here. I’m starting it in five… four…” 

There’s a scramble behind them as Pez clambers over the back of the couch, somehow managing to not spill a plate of baked goods. Nora comes around the couch to sit almost directly in his lap, and he squawks, barely saving his cupcake from destruction. June just laughs as she leans back against their legs, and Bea takes a seat in their big armchair, curling up like a cat just as Alex presses play. Noel and Sandi are on the screen as Henry reaches over to take a cookie off Alex’s plate, earning a shout of indignation from his boyfriend.

His boyfriend.

It still feels unreal to say that, that Alex really is his boyfriend, that they really do get to share a flat in London and come home to each other. It feels fast, but with Bea moving up to Manchester, the pieces had fallen together perfectly. The next few months are going to be wild, and he knows that, as four of them are about to become famous almost overnight. He wonders how long it will be before someone notices his relationship with Alex, since no matter how subtle they thought they were, none of their friends had been surprised when they got together. 

A few weeks ago, when the prints of their bakes came in, he’d taken a picture of the stack of them to send Alex, who’d still been wrapping things up at Kent. Now, he posts it to his Instagram, showing the post to Alex for approval before tagging him and putting it out into the world. 

Alex is more obvious. He’s got a picture of the two of them taking a break, one Nora took of Henry curled up against him, and he posts it with a caption about how excited he is for everyone to finally learn to appreciate Henry the way he has. Henry sees it and just rolls his eyes. 

The episode plays, and the six of them enjoy it, then call Liam and Spencer in Spencer’s parents’ living room to hear their thoughts. Zahra and Shaan are watching together in Edinburgh, and Amy’s watching with Cash and her wife in Wales, and it feels good to talk to them all again. Oliver texts Alex later that night; apparently he’s in the US and forgot to mention that he’d be visiting Raf there for the premiere and a vacation. Henry’s eyebrows go up at that, but Alex just laughs, texting back that it looks like more than one trans-Atlantic relationship may have come out of the Bake Off tent. Oliver and Raf had only met at the picnic, but they’d spent the entirety of it with each other instead of their family or friends, and they’ve apparently been texting non-stop since. 

As their social medias begin to blow up, the four contestants in a flat in London ignore them, switching from watching their show to planning their next project: a cookbook titled _Rainbows, Spice, and Everything Nice_. Alex can’t imagine a group he’d rather tackle the world with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!!! This chapter really goes out to Syd, who stepped in at the last minute as a beta and made me add a kissing scene when I thought the end of the show was climax enough.  
> \--  
> As a little extra treat, though, I'm putting together a sort of "recipe book" of things mentioned here! That's in the next chapter, and I'll be adding to it as I get time in the next few days.  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


	11. Cook Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! I can't vouch for all of these recipes, but here's a list of bakes from the fic, broken down by chapter!  
> \--  
> FOR WEIGHT TO VOLUME CONVERSIONS,[ CLICK HERE!!!](https://www.convert-me.com/en/convert/cooking/)

**Chapter 1: Cake Week**

  * [Mary Berry's Victoria Sponge](https://www.pbs.org/food/recipes/marys-victoria-sandwich/)
  * [Tres Leches Cake](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/7399/tres-leches-milk-cake/)
  * [Technical Nut Cake](http://www.gutenberg.org/files/26323/26323-h/26323-h.htm#Page_118)



**Chapter 2: Biscuit Week**

  * [Ginger biscuits](https://www.thespruceeats.com/easy-traditional-ginger-biscuit-recipe-435303)
  * [Hamantaschen](https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/hamentaschen)
  * Shortbread 
    * This one's my recipe! I don't have a source anymore, BUT I like making shortbread bars, because I feel like you can get that nice crumbly texture more easily if you’re not worried about rolling it out or cutting it. This works for two 9x9 pans or three-four loaf pans (my favorite, since you can play with flavors that way).
    * **You Will Need:**
      * 2 cups flour
      * 2/3 cup sugar
      * 2 sticks butter (1 cup)
      * pinch of salt
      * additional flavor elements (roughly 2 tablespoons, though it depends on what you're adding) 
    * **Instructions** : 
      * Preheat the oven to 350 F
      * Mix dry ingredients, then grate in butter (this is easier if you pop your butter in the freezer first) 
        * You can also cut the butter into little pieces, but it takes longer
      * Combine with fork or in food processor until crumbly, or roughly pea-sized
      * Add any extra flavorings, to taste. I’m a big fan of adding allspice, cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove for a holiday vibe, or chocolate chips and instant coffee powder for a mocha. Lavender and earl grey from the bag works great, too! Just sample bits as you go, and start small, especially with strong flavors like coffee.
      * Use wrappers from the butter to grease tins, then flour them. Tap excess flour into sink or back into the container.
      * Press into tins and refrigerate until the oven is preheated
      * Bake until just brown around the edges, roughly 15 minutes. If using something like coffee or cocoa powder that can make it hard to see color changes, it should be easy to press down in the center.
  * Millionaire's Shortbread 
    * This one's my recipe, too!
    * **You Will** **Need** : 
      * 2 cups flour
      * 2/3 cup sugar
      * 2 sticks butter (1 cup)
      * pinch of salt
      * 2 cans sweetened condensed milk
      * 2 Tablespoons butter
      * 3/4 pound good chocolate 
        * I like to add a chocolate orange into this mix, but that's optional
    * **Instructions** : 
      * Make shortbread as above and let cool
      * For caramel layer, combine sweetened condensed milk and 2 T butter in a saucepan over medium low heat. Slowly bring to boil, stirring continuously. Continue to boil caramel until it reaches a dark amber color, then pour over shortbread and allow to set/cool.
      * Melt chocolate and pour over set caramel. Allow to cool completely.



**Chapter 3: Bread Week**

  * [Orange Rolls](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/219289/high-five-orange-rolls/)
  * [Monkey Bread](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/272308/monkey-bread-from-scratch/) ([this one uses refrigerated bread dough and is easier](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/83312/sticky-monkey-brains/))
  * [Sourdough Waffles](https://www.cookingwithcarlee.com/2016/06/red-white-and-blueberry-sourdough.html)
  * [Conchas](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/88907/conchas-mexican-sweet-bread/)
  * [Pan Muerto](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/7224/pan-de-muertos-mexican-bread-of-the-dead/)
  * [Challah](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/6760/challah-i/)
  * [Zucchini Bread](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/6698/moms-zucchini-bread/)
  * [My go-to bread recipe](http://www.thefreshloaf.com/recipes/frogbread)
    * I usually skip the egg wash on this, and while the frog is cute, it also makes two decent sized loaves, which are a bit easier to eat. I like a pinch more sugar in mine, and if you're halving it (for just one loaf, which I'd recommend if you're just one person), it's just two tablespoons of sugar instead of 1/4 cup.



**Chapter 4: Holiday Week**

  * [Rugelach](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/10115/rugelach/)
  * [Sugar Cookies](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/9870/easy-sugar-cookies/)
  * [Raspberry Syllabub Custard Trifle](https://www.saveur.com/article/Recipes/Raspberry-Trifle/) (or [just syllabub here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQksGGtDB2w))
  * [Calaveritas](https://www.tablespoon.com/recipes/how-to-make-sugar-skulls-calavera-de-azucar/c12860df-02bc-4901-a2e4-46efbf570322)



**Chapter 5: Entree Week**

  * [Haggis Pie](https://www.deliaonline.com/recipes/collections/perfect-pies/haggis-pie-with-tatties-and-neeps-and-whisky-sauce) (we can't really get haggis in the US because you "can't legally import sheep guts" or whatever, but for folks other places)
  * [Game Pie](https://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/gamepie_8555)
  * [Mac and Cheese Pie](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/22725/macaroni-pie/) (this recipe doesn't have a crust, but I've had pie that was just this in a hot water crust)
  * [Pasteles](https://www.thespruceeats.com/pasteles-basics-2138107)
  * Garlic Knots 
    * Hi! This one's mine again! I love it because the garlic butter is made separately, which means you also get a recipe for garlic butter to bump your grilled cheese up a notch.
    * **You Will Need**
      * For the dough: 
        * 3/4 C warm water
        * 1 tsp sugar
        * 1 packet (2 tsp) yeast
        * 2 1/4 C flour
        * 1 T olive oil
        * 1 t salt
        * (OR: 14 oz pizza dough)
      * For the garlic butter/ topping 
        * 5 T butter
        * 4 cloves garlic, minced
        * 1/4 C parsley, chopped
        * 1 t salt
    * Instructions: 
      * Mix yeast, sugar, and water and let sit 3-5 minutes so the yeast can bloom
      * Mix dry dough ingredients, then add wet to a well in the center
      * Knead and let rise until doubled in size, roughly 90 minutes
      * Quarter and flatten to 4x5 inch rectangles, then cut each rectangle into 8 strips
      * Roll strips into ropes and knot
      * Brush with olive oil and let rise ~90 minutes
      * Bake 12-15 minutes at 400 F
      * While knots are baking, melt butter over medium heat
      * Add garlic to melted butter, cooking 1-2 minutes to get rid of that raw garlic taste
      * add salt and parsley, stir, and brush onto knots.
  * Pizza 
    * I use the dough recipe above, then [the deep dish method from this Basics with Babish video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1O3uHPCOLA)
  * [Tamales](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/34512/real-homemade-tamales/)
  * [Jollof Rice](https://allnigerianfoods.com/nigerian-jellof-rice)
  * [Gizdodo](https://allnigerianfoods.com/gizdodo)
  * [Tzimmes](https://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/tzimmes/)
  * [Tishpishti](https://www.washingtonpost.com/recipes/tishpishti-citrus-semolina-cake/17592/)
  * [Candied Yams](https://www.chowhound.com/recipes/candied-yams-28004)



**Chapter 6: History Week**

  * Scones: I actually talked to [@scone-lover on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/scone-lover/search/scone+recipe) for this challenge; she's got some recipes on her blog that look great!
  * [Sambocade](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GCCJ2Qpr1nM)
  * [Spanakopita](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/18417/spanakopita-greek-spinach-pie/) (or just "spinach pie")  




**Chapter 7: French** **Week**

  * [Flognarde](https://www.196flavors.com/france-flognarde/)
  * [Creme au Caramel](https://www.thespruceeats.com/classic-french-creme-au-caramel-recipe-1375167)
  * [Napoleon](https://www.marthastewart.com/1158571/napoleon)



**Chapter 8: Tray Bakes**

  * Brownies 
    * [Cookie Brownies](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/238654/brookies-brownie-cookies/) ("Brookies")
    * [Raspberry Brownies](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/228273/righteous-raspberry-brownies/)
    * [Salted Caramel Brownies](https://www.bakingmartha.co.uk/blog/2019/6/25/salted-caramel-popcorn-pretzel-brownies) (these also have popcorn and pretzels AND they're from a Bake Off contestant!)
  * [Cinnamon Rolls](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/21461/ooey-gooey-cinnamon-buns/)
  * [Seven Layer Bars](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/9889/seven-layer-bars/)
    * I made these ALL THE TIME as a kid, but substituted the coconut for 1 C mini marshmallows. They'd get all toasty in the oven and be INCREDIBLE
  * [Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars](https://www.verybestbaking.com/toll-house/recipes/original-nestle-toll-house-chocolate-chip-pan-cookie/)
  * [Fudge](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/9368/fudge/)



**Chapter 9: Semi-Finals**

  * [Pumpkin Pop-Tarts](https://www.bakedbyanintrovert.com/pumpkin-pie-pop-tarts/)
  * [Raspberry Pain au Chocolat](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/84393/raspberry-pain-au-chocolat-raspberry-chocolate-croissants/)
  * [Kouig-Amann](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/271049/kouign-amann/)
  * [Pumpkin Empanadas](https://www.firstdayofhome.com/baked-pumpkin-empanada-recipe/)



**Chapter 10:** **Finals**

  * Baumkuchen
    * You probably can't make a real one of these at home; you need a rotisserie oven to heat every side evenly. But [here’s a (slightly) simpler recipe](https://www.bhg.com/recipe/baumkuchen/)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE let me know if any of this is confusing and I'll do what I can to clear things up!! I'm not exactly a recipe writer, so I'm sorry if it's unclear. Also, for a lot of these (things like tamales and sugar cookies), I'm sure every family has their own recipe that they love, so if you've got a favorite or a special trick, feel free to leave it in the comments!  
> \--  
> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Thanks y'all!


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